The Necklace
by Ellisaed
Summary: What if Padmè's japor snippet hadn't been buried with her on Naboo? What if it had somehow been able to bring together the children that had been torn apart? And with her husband - now a notorious Sith Lord - on a endless search to regain the necklace back, will it end up being the galaxy's greatest mistake? *NEW CHAPTER 6 UP* Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**_Hey! You may be wondering why on earth I'm starting a new fic when my others have been unattended for a while - well, don't fret, I'm still writing. It's just slow. As with my others, I may update slow but I never abandon stories!_**

**_The idea of Padmè and Anakin's japor snippet not being buried with her came to me randomly, but it stuck. So, here is what I came up with - please read and review, and I'll write some more soon. Thanks! ~ Ellisaed_**

* * *

_It was not a special thing, nor ever was. It couldn't be, wouldn't be and did not attempt to be. Yet, to a few, it was somehow held dearer than the most precious gem, kept safe like a secret and held close like a child._

_Japor wood was not rare, not expensive or difficult to shape. It was low grade, good for trade, cheap. When a certain small slivered edge, fragmented from a haul of furniture shipping through Tatooine, had glinted in the twin sunlight and caught the attention of a certain young Tatooinian boy, it had become something. A dull kitchen knife had worked away the impurities, sanding the abrasiveness, polishing the dullness, until it became something almost special; but it was not a special thing._

_A strange innocence could be suspected when eyes met it, the pale faded ivory a pure sight. At the same time, the etched designs and thin veins of brown seemed impure and tainted with darkness. To the knowing eye that meant so much, reflecting the past of two unsure children and a token of remembrance, of discovered feelings and love laced with dark secrets and scandals. It had been meant to grant fortune, but ultimately brought death. Still, it was not a special thing. _

_Who would have known the true journey of it, or the meaning? The little boy who had found the tiny wood chunk in his homeworld sands and smoothed it beautiful? The young girl, the receiver, who accepted the token unbeknownst it would seal her fate? The weary Jedi Master at the deathbed of her, burdened and heartached and soon to be the keeper of this secret key? _

* * *

". . . Obi-Wan - "

"It's alright Padmè." Obi-Wan stroked the young woman's cold, limp hand. He struggled to find the strength he usually saw in her deep brown eyes. "Don't give up."

The eyes were glossy, unfocused, weak. Sweat laced her drawn brow. It took great effort for her to even speak, "Anakin . . . where's Anakin? Is he here?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. He shook his head slowly, "No, he's not."

Little did she know, and he withheld from her, of Anakin Skywalker's true whereabouts. Obi-Wan justified the secrets he did not share, knowing how her heart already was breaking; how could anyone take the news of the one they love becoming the one they had to hate? Padmè cried out again, and Obi-Wan squeezed her hand gently, praying for her pain to end. The surgical theater was cold and stale, and his feet tired - amongst other things.

The Jedi was drained, mentally, unable to process how much everything had become so horribly wrong, and yet was his reality. Obi-Wan did not realize how much he had clung to securely, despite the Order's attachment ban. The Temple, in ruins then, had been like his home. The Republic his backbone, the Clone Troops his companions, the Jedi his family. And Anakin . . .

He felt it physically from loss of sleep, stress he did not fight and the gruesome, harrowing battle he had fought just hours ago, evidence seen on his scorched tunic and burn-tender skin. His head ached, thoughts an endless loop inside it: _If you're not with me . . . you're my enemy . . . I hate you!_

Emotionally, he felt it most of all. It was all too much, too soon.

"Is it . . . Anakin thinks it's a girl." Padmè managed into Obi-Wan's thoughts, her voice breathless but contented by thinking of the man, "Is it . . . ?"

"We don't know yet. Just hold on." Obi-Wan encouraged her gently; he managed a glance to the end of the table, at the Pollis Massan Medical droids assisting with Padmè's labour; he could not read their blank squarish faces, but knew and denied the truth. He had to be strong for Padmè, to show her to likewise be strong. They had informed him that she was dying. He saw the young face tense in pain again and winced as she cried out -

The wailing was a glorious sound, and Obi-Wan smiled to Padmè, both him and the weak mother looking to the droid as it handed her baby to him, announcing softly, "A boy."

"Luke . . ." Padmè smiled, the Jedi holding the squirming little infant close enough for her trembling hand to caress; the skin was warm and ever so soft, and he was so beautiful even yet. Obi-Wan carefully cradled the child, brows furrowed at the change in Padmè's face when she withdrew and cried out, breathing heavily. _Oh yes_, he remembered, _there is another. _Again, at a cry the droid revealed a tiny baby, holding it so that Padmè could see; Obi-Wan translated the words it spoke, "It's a girl."

". . . Leia." Padmè had grown quiet, as though she fought to stay awake. Obi-Wan knew, then. Desperate, he called to her as if she was somewhere far away, "Padmè, you have twins. You must hold on."

Padmè, those brown eyes deep in pain and sorrow rolling back, drawing her away, whispered, "Obi-Wan . . ."

He leaned nearer to the weakening voice. The trembling hand in his own relaxed, but fingers pressed something into his palm with the firmness he remembered; Obi-Wan looked, seeing a leather cord there, but his eyes were taken up to her face as she spoke again.

". . . there's good in him . . . I know - I know there is . . . still . . ."

The lips ceased, the head limp, and like a phantom wind her life was snatched away in the Force. Obi-Wan stared momentarily, the infant in his arms screaming in distress. His eyes looked out of the surgical theater, to Master Yoda, Bail Organa and the droids who watched solemnly. By Yoda's expression, Obi-Wan sensed he knew.

Suddenly, he became aware of a dozen different scanners and monitors erupting in distressed sounds, and the droids took the baby and bid him quickly from the room.

* * *

_"I made this for you." Anakin Skywalker looked to his hands that concealed his precious gift. He was never usually shy, but she somehow made him that way. He wanted her to like it, to see it to be as beautiful as she was. "So you'd remember me - I carved it out of a japor snippet . . . it will bring you good fortune."_

_He offered it, letting the small amulet dangle a little as he passed it so it could see the starships dim lights. Padmè, who sat close beside him, looked to him with her bright brown eyes and smiled. She took the necklace and inspected it between her fingers, stroking the carvings he had ensured were precise, the rivets and edges he had smoothed shiny. Anakin bit his lip, blue eyes blinking nervously._

_Padmè put the necklace over her head, and said softly, "It's beautiful. But I don't need this to remember you. How could I forget my future husband?"_

_Anakin met her eyes, his cheeks blushing, and he beamed._

* * *

Obi-Wan stood stock-stiff before them, See-Threepio making a mechanical hush to his counterpart whirring sadly. The silence did not concern him, or register in his mind.

"Is she . . . ?" Bail inquired gently, unknown due to lack of Jedi abilities. Obi-Wan could not respond.

"One with the Force, Senator Amidala has become. At peace." Yoda looked up to Bail as he spoke the words, though they seemed untrue.

Obi-Wan was sure they were. He barely breathed. His fingers rubbed the item in his hand. He blinked, but did not move. His eyes searched the tiny square of wood strung in the leather cord, searching for the answer to the question yearning.

Master Yoda hobbled closer, inquiring, "What, there, have you Obi-Wan?"

The taller Master did not respond physically, but whispered, "She gave this to me. And I . . . I don't even know what it means."

Obi-Wan looked to the elder Master in distress, in sorrow, but he knew Yoda did not - and could not - give him any answer to the unspoken question. The green-brown eyes, those same ones he had during his Jedihood both resented and cherished, soothed him.

"Buried with her, it should be, perhaps." Yoda suggested gently.

Obi-Wan looked again to the pendant, feeling in the Force the bond intertwined in it, the depths of heartache and struggle mixed with a passionate love. He felt Padmè - he felt his Padawan.

Obi-Wan nodded to Yoda, but tucked the necklace away into his robes as he replied, "Perhaps."

* * *

Obi-Wan stood in the stance he often did, the one he felt most comfortable in. His left arm was across his chest, and his right elbow rested atop, thumb and forefinger upon his chin. Often he had stood like this on a high ridge overlooking a battlefield, contemplating strategies aside General Cody, aside his former Padawan, Anakin Skywalker. All of that was gone, then, and his surrounding changed in drastic parallel.

The Jedi Master stood in the private nursery of Padmè Amidala's newborn babies, gazing upon the tiny bundles wrapped snuggly and resting in the dim warmth of the room. Pollis Massan nurses strolled about busily but noiseless, the only sound Obi-Wan detected being the soft sound of his and the children's breathing.

He had retreated there to find peace, or at least the illusion of it. Senator Organa had set out to ensure the Med Centre would keep no record of the recent birth and to arrange the funeral for the recent death. Obi-Wan had asked to assist him, to keep himself busy, but Bail had refused. The man knew the Jedi was pushed beyond fatigue, and had encouraged him to rest.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, observing the little girls bluish eyes that squinted from the harsh light of life, contentedly blinking up at him. Those eyes would turn brown, Obi-Wan could tell. Her brothers, he had not yet seen, the boy sleeping then quietly.

Despite his own exhaustion, Obi-Wan could not sleep, and doubted he would be able to for quite some time. Force, he could not even calm himself enough to meditate yet. How could he? How could he give himself voluntarily to the nightmares that awaited? The terrors of the blank stares of slain Jedi Younglings, the smoldering rage of his brother and friend, the final whispers of Padmè?

The little boy gave a small cry, squirming uncomfortably, and Obi-Wan reached and rubbed the infant gently, hushing his whimpers. A Kallidahin nurse found them at the sound, glancing up to the tall Jedi with tiny eyes on its pale squarish face and offering Obi-Wan a warm bottle. The Master thanked the being, carefully lifting the baby in his arms for the second time that night and soothing the pitiful sounds he made.

"Luke . . ." Obi-Wan spoke aloud for the first time, and the baby seemed to respond, taking the bottle in his mouth and drinking. He had been reluctant to accept the name, as if in hope that these two precious lives were not truly born in the midst of such tragedy, not victims of Anakin Skywalker's wrath. Not truly the offspring of him.

It was true, though. The Jedi Order itself had collapsed, the Republic, amongst other things. Obi-Wan couldn't help to think it was all due to this secret. How, he wondered, could they have been so blind?

Obi-Wan rocked the baby back and forth gently, admiring Luke's gossamer hair and knowing that it would grow full and blonde, just like his father's. Just like the little boy he had met on Tatooine, with a lust for attention and praise and nothing but over eager. Much pruning, it had taken to weed out those little tendencies in Anakin, much, much pruning. Obi-Wan usually smiled in remembrance of those early times, the innocence of the two of them both young and unsure, but could not then. Not yet.

The baby in his arms stopped drinking, lulled asleep by a full belly and the comfort of his arms. Obi-Wan placed him in his cradle again, looking to see the little girl, Leia, fussing and squeaking at the lack of her brothers presence close to her own. Sadly, he knew both of them would have to grow used to being apart. He knew, and had known ever since their birth, just how Force sensitive the two were, and how endangered likewise.

They were to leave in the morning, plans already being considered of an increasingly necessary separation.

From one extremity to the next, the closeness of the womb to opposite spectrums of the galaxy, in hope - a bright hope - of keeping them safe during these tumultuous times. _So shall I go, _Obi-Wan remembered with a sigh, rubbing Luke gently as a whimper escaped him. Just like the twins, his Force sensitivity was far too great to remain unnoticed.

"We all have to hide, don't we?" Obi-Wan whispered, Luke soothed by the deep, gentle sound, "Just for a while. Until the time is right, young one, and you become . . ."

The baby squinted up at him, his eyes a familiar blue, and Obi-Wan smiled involuntarily, ". . . you become a Jedi."

The Master carefully lifted the child, placing him in his sisters bassinet with her, both babies quieting their upset in the soothing of the others presence. Luke's forehead rested on Leia's temple, both drowsing off into sleep again; the last time they would be together for quite awhile, they might as well be _together._

Obi-Wan, in remembrance, reached into his robe and grasped the amulet given to him. In the bright nursery lights, he saw clearly the meticulous lines carved from the pale japor ivory wood, an untrained yet careful handiwork. It must have meant something to Padmè, enough to while in her dying moments take time to pass on. He could sense that it was not meant to stay with her, or to be buried. Padmè would have wanted it to be kept dear.

_And that I will ensure is done, _Obi-Wan decided, reaching inside the cradle and caressing both of the babies tiny cheeks with his forefinger in farewell, squeezing the necklace in his hand as tears threatened. His throat was thin as he closed the door behind himself, leaning against it as he slipped the jerba cord out of the wood, finding his multitool form his belt. The amulet was a weak wood, and with the application of the small knife and a gentle, careful hand, he sliced the pendant in two even halves.

Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed as he sat on the cold floor and put his head in his hands, exhausted and barely able to hide his deep lament in the Force from the fragile lives that he knew could sense it.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hello again! From now on, I'm going to try and update once a week - hence _****try****_ very strongly. A huge thanks to all who followed/favourited - 3! You guys rock! I'm honoured at the response of this fic. And big giant hugs to Momo Spock and anonymous for reviews! Feel very free to review, I love them and accept them all. Thanks again, hope you enjoy! :D_**

* * *

Bail Organa, forehead lined with deep solemnity, stood and watched the sunrise over the horizon of the Nubian Lake country on his private veranda. He was dressed in his best suit, a rich navy and grey frock accented by an ochre sash slung from shoulder to waist. His attire had been changed from the previous black of mourning, and gladly. He was anxious for all of the sadness to cease.

The morning air of Naboo was crisp and soothing, but Bail could not relieve the hollow in his stomach. Images of the funeral still flashed clearly in his mind: the casket, and the too young woman inside, her parents in tears and the Nubian spectators struck silent. Even he was still shocked, wondering if it had all been a dream and Padmè would join him on the veranda, cradling her children -

At a whimpering, he turned to see his reality. His young wife and queen Breha swayed gently side to side in her long dark gown, her hair pulled back as all Alderaanian women wore it, and covered mostly by her headdress. Dark eyes beamed upon their little girl, a smile on her lips that Bail swore had been there ever since Leia's arrival.

He took to her side, peeking over his wife's shoulder and lifting the blankets from Leia's face. Breha swatted his hand playfully, "Don't - she will get a chill!"

"Pish posh, she needs some Nubian sunshine!" Bail was brightened by his wife's joy and as he lifted back the blanket, by gazing upon his daughters face, "How is our Princess today?"

Breha shrugged, "Better. We managed a bit of breakfast, but she has been fussy ever since Master Kenobi began preparing Luke to leave."

Bail met the her eyes, the queen bouncing the child who seemed upset at her fathers concern, though her mother was indifferent, "She knows, that's all."

"She is a special child, gifted."

"Like her mother." Breha answered, and repeated lovingly to the child, "Just like your mother."

Bail agreed somewhat, watching his wife bounce the fussy infant, somewhat. Padmè Amidala had been a very persuasive, intelligent and somehow elegant presence in the Senate, one he felt at losing. She had also been his close friend.

He still did not understand everything concerning the Jedi business, or how Padmè had gotten caught up with it, but Obi-Wan had explained to him that the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had sired her children. He knew that Leia's gifts came not from Padmè, but from her father. Bail knew that his daughter had special insights and abilities he did not understand, but knew were potentially dangerous.

Bail was not sure if this upset him or not, but before he could decide the veranda doors opened, revealing Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan shouldered a small rucksack over one arm, the other comfortably cradling Leia's twin who was sleeping, like usual. The man's garb hinted at his looming journey ahead, the brown robes clean and layered and beard trimmed. Obi-Wan smiled to both of them reassuringly, but Bail could see through it. Behind it was a man suffering worse than he had seen any man had to suffer.

Yet again, Bail knew little details of the exact tragedy, but he knew enough. Padmé's sudden passing, the obliteration of the Senate into a new Empire and the destruction of the Jedi Order - all due to the handiwork of a "deceived, brainwashed monster", as Obi-Wan had said. Bail had not pressed for anymore details.

The Jedi stood before Breha then, and Bail could hear his gentle voice, "I thank you for your hospitality, my queen, during this confusing time. I am in debt."

"Please, call me Breha." The queen replied, hiding her sadness due to his farewell, "You have done so much Master Jedi, I'm sure the galaxy's debt to you will suffice."

"Please, call me Obi-Wan." They laughed softly, momentarily.

"You are welcome to Alderaan anytime; we are always waiting for you." Breha hoped to give the Jedi security in knowing this, "Just ask."

"Thank you. Best wishes for your new family." Obi-Wan began to bow, but Breha placed a hand on his shoulder; he looked up to her, expression confused.

"A bow just won't do, Obi-Wan."

She quickly kissed him on each cheek and embraced him with her free arm, the Master at first surprised and uneasy with the gesture. He relaxed though, hugging the woman back gently with what Bail detected as a sigh.

And then, Obi-Wan was beforevhim. His smile was light, but his blue-grey eyes were glossy and shadowed, sad. Bail figured his own expression was just as grave, for the Master scoffed and mumbled, "Don't look so morbid; you're making it seem like I'm heading off to the gallows."

"No one's ever told me a good word about Tatooine." Bail reminded him, "Or about the joys of exile."

"Believe me, I'll adjust. I've been lacking peace and quiet ever since the war began."

"Promise me you won't stir up any Sith Lords while you're there." Bail joked lightly.

Obi-Wan chuckled, but it was distant and forced, to cover yet again his sadness. He sighed and continued, "Bail, I thank you for -"

"Obi-Wan. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan drew his brow, "You have done nothing to wrong me -"

"I am sorry . . . as your friend, for everything that has gone wrong." Bail saw the Jedi's face soften, "For the Jedi and the Republic and your family."

"Family?" The question was incredulous.

"Padmè and . . . Master Skywalker."

Bail slipped a hand into his robe, "Now, do not be upset - it isn't much, but it will last you . . ."

He handed Obi-Wan a small sachet with an Alderaanian symbol printed on the outside; the Jedi looked quizzically inside, and handed it back indignantly. His voice was soft with hidden stubbornness.

"Bail, I do not need nor want your money -"

"I need to give it to you. To know you will keep him safe." Bail looked to the baby, but back up at the man, "And yourself. The galaxy needs you more than you know."

Obi-Wan held his breath. Breha, seeing the slight upset, went to move to the man but Bail gave her a look, and she came to his own side instead. The Jedi clutched the sachet and looked out into the foggy lake below them. Bail knew it was difficult, for Jedi did not accept gifts. But the man nodded. "Thank you. I have a gift for you in exchange - or, for the little one."

Obi-Wan stepped nearer to Breha again, reaching into his robes and revealing a tiny hoop of leather. A small pendant of pale wood with designs etched about it dangled from the end.

"What's this?" The queen inquired, and Bail recognized it as Padme's, remembering the medical center and the gift the Jedi did not understand.

"A gift . . ." Obi-Wan reached carefully, and Breha held little Leia out a bit so he could slip it over her head, tucking it under her tiny dress. ". . . from her mother."

Breha bowed her head in gratefulness, "We will cherish it well."

Obi-Wan nodded. "The Force be with you always."

With a final bow, the Alderaanian king and queen watched him depart slowly. Bail held his wife close to himself, silently promising to hold dear the things he cherished most. Because for some, that was all they had.

Yet, it was always enough.

* * *

**_(Five Years Later)_**

"No no no!"

"Princess, please -"

"No! No no _no_!"

"I need not inform your mother about this - now be a lady and come here so I can do your hair!"

Leia Organa ignored her nursemaid Rena who chased after her as she continued to skip about her bedroom. She hopped over her bed, hopped past her vanity, hopped past her closet and back again. She spun around in circles, her long dark hair loose behind her, with her favorite stuffed bantha from her daddy that she named Oori.

It was a bright morning on Alderaan, and Leia was a bit grumpy. Sometimes, when she was so, she decided to be defiant. Like every morning her hair needed to be done. And like most mornings, Leia put up an honest fight against it. It didn't help that this morning, she was grumpy too.

"My hair looks best like this Rena!" Leia protested, skipping a bit faster and trying not to giggle when the nursemaid grabbed at the hem of her pink nightgown, "Just like this!"

"No, Princess." Rena refused, pulling up her skirts and huffing tiredly; she was used to this, Leia knew, for she had not only been her nursemaid but her mother the Queen of Alderaan's too. Stubbornness was a family trait, as Rena told her in times like this, and it gave her grey hairs.

"Your mother requested that you attend a meeting with her today, and that means your hair must be combed and braided!"

Leia shook her head, peeking between the sheer canopy of her bed and pausing to address the nurse, "Can't I have it long? Please Rena? It feels so much better like this!"

The nursemaid, face reddened, denied, "All of the other little girls on Alderaan wear their hair done -"

"That's the point!" Leia cried, stomping a slippered foot, "I don't want to be the same, I want to change!"

Quickly, she hopped from her bed and darted to her closet as she skipped past and shut herself in, Rena giving a cry of frustration. "Princess! None of this - come out this instant!"

Leia shook her head, holding the handle shut with one hand while the other held Oori close to her chest. "No." she whispered to herself.

Too many things she did the same each day: waking at six, eating at eight, lessons at ten with Sir Erasmus one day and meetings with mum or daddy at eleven the next, playtime only if she behaved "like a princess".

Leia did not like being a princess, for she was always the centre of attention wherever she went. Her parents and her could barely go out without people following them around, so most often she was stuck in the palace. The palace was fun, for she had Winter to play with sometimes and had many toys, but her parents were always busy. It seemed sometimes that her parents only gave her attention when she did something bad, not good. That made Leia upset.

"Princess . . . please, open." The muffled voice of Rena called, but Leia heard footsteps, footsteps, and her bedroom door close: she had left, like she usually did after a while. The princess sat with her stuffed toy in her lap, pleased by the quiet and solitariness. She liked being alone sometimes.

"Only nursemaids and nanny droids care for me." Leia whispered to Oori as she stroked her fur, making out the shape of her furry face in the dark. "And you too, Oori."

Subconsciously, her fingers found the pendant around her neck, the one she'd worn ever since she could remember. Leia always wore it because sometimes she would get strange feelings: sadness or pain, not from herself but inside somewhere. She had always had these feelings too.

Her mother, Queen Breha, had told Leia that when she was small they had trouble finding out why she would cry without her necklace, and they still weren't sure. All Leia knew was that touching it made her feel better, feeling the bumpy carved parts soothed her, the smooth side and the rough side.

Mother had said many times that the necklace was a gift from someone special. She had told her that the other half belonged to them. Leia wondered often, when she would think and stroke it in bed, who it was. She figured they felt the things she felt too.

Leia slipped the necklace over her head and looked at it. Her stomach felt warm as she thought about doing the thing she wasn't supposed to do, as commanded by her father. But she hadn't meant to do it - it had been an accident the first time.

Leia remembered, it was just a few months ago, studying her necklace like she was. She remembered being alone in her bed at night, and . . . _feeling_ something inside her, feeling someone _near_ her. It was then, after she had closed her eyes and focused on the sensation, when she had made the necklace float for the first time. It had been frightening, but she had grown used to it since. She could even make other things float, just small ones, after practicing.

Leia rubbed her thumb over the amulet, feeling frustrated that she wasn't allowed to do it anymore. Just three days ago, after her father had tucked her into bed, she had shown him her special trick, and he had not liked it. At _all_. That had been the angriest Leia had ever seen her daddy. He had grabbed her wrist, and said, "Do not ever . . . don't do this again. Do you understand? You tell no one else, you show no one - you will not speak of this to your mother. Am I clear?"

Daddy's eyes had been glossy with tears, and he had looked very scared. She had been very scared. Leia rubbed real tears from her eyes then, saddened at the memory, and put the necklace back on. She would obey her father; she would try.

Someone knocked on the closet again and a frustrated Leia groaned and cried out, "Go away you stinky nerf herder!"

She wasn't supposed to use such language, for it made her father roll his eyes and her mother blush; Leia smiled at the thought.

It was quiet for a moment, before the closet door opened slowly, revealing a tall broad figure dressed in a navy suit; the dark eyes much like Leia's own were drawn thin and serious. Leia's father folded his arms across his chest, another indication to the little girl of just how upset he was.

Leia bit her lip and scrunched her face a bit, looking up to her daddy with a half-smile. "Oops?"

Her father feigned a smile as he grabbed her ear, chuckling dryly as he followed her out, squeaking in discomfort, "Nice try, Princess."

* * *

"Luke! . . . Luke . . ."

Luke Skywalker peeked out from his hinding place behind the base of a water vaporator, clearly hearing his Aunt Beru's calls but not heeding them. He knew it was nearing bedtime, by the low lazy suns in the orange sky, but was not tired. He never usually was.

The whisperkit pup in the sand before his folded legs chirped and chittered, and Luke stroked the soft brown fur and offered it more dried fruit. "You're not dirty, are you? No matter what Uncle Owen says."

It clicked in its throat happily, standing on its hind legs to munch. Luke grinned, as did his friend Windy.

"He's smart too, see?" Windy Starkiller's dark hair matched his dark mischievous eyes, and he held a pallie up above the creature's head and called, "Piri, jump! Jump Piri!"

Windy lifted the fruit a little, and the creature looked up to the treat and gave a leap. Luke laughed gleefully. "That's wizard! How'd you teach him that?"

"Darren showed me. He has a 'kit too ya know." Windy said, matter-of-factly, "Everyone has a pet."

Luke nodded, quiet. He tossed sand gently between his legs, knowing that his unkempt blonde hair covered his sad eyes. Windy whispered, "Have you asked them yet?"

Luke shook his head. He knew why he had not asked, but did not want to tell Windy. He was ashamed.

Luke had lived with his aunt and uncle forever, or at least since he was born. His life was not hard, but he always had chores unlike the other kids, and he never got to play. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were not bad to him - they were the best Luke could ask for. Aunt Beru always remembered to wash his clothes and cut the crusts off of his sandwiches, and Uncle Owen only yelled when he was very upset and sometimes even let Luke power up their speeder.

Despite this, Luke could not help feeling left out sometimes. His school friends all owned new model speedsters and tool kits, and even had newer clothes than he did. Luke rarely got new things. Aunt Beru reminded him often that "me and Uncle Owen work hard, and don't always have extra credits like the other families do."

"Especially not to spend on children's junk." Uncle Owen would say, which would make Luke sad. He loved his Uncle, but wished he weren't so . . . grumpy. Luke knew his father had not been grumpy. He imagined his father often, flying all around the galaxy and navigating spice freighters, for that was what Uncle Owen said he did. He imagined what his mother would have been, probably pretty but sick, for she had died. Luke did not know anything about her, except that she was pretty and that she had given him her pendant.

He grabbed it from his pocket then, not letting Windy see, and slipped it over his head. The necklace helped him when he had bad feelings, the ones he could not control. Aunt Beru made sure he always had it, for once when he was very small they had went to Anchorhead without it and he had gotten very sick and would not stop crying. Luke didn't remember, but knew it had been very dangerous. He did not understand this, but he often felt like there was someone that felt these things too, somewhere.

Windy squinted as the dry dusty winds picked up, stroking Piri who had snuggled onto his lap, "So . . . what are you gonna do?"

Luke shrugged, remembering his dilemma. "I dunno. Uncle Owen will say no, I bet."

"Well, maybe not." Windy said hopefully. Luke liked how Windy was always hopeful, and how he talked with a stuffy nose. It made him laugh. "Maybe he'll give it as a present -"

Luke gasped, a grin finding his face as he spring to his feet. His eyes were wide as saucers and he nearly shouted, "You're a genius Windy! My birthday is in two more sleeps - I'll ask for a present! A pet!"

"Brilliant!" Windy cheered, and in the childish excitement of the moment the two jumped up and down, running about in circles and hollering happily. Piri skittered around their feet, making Luke giggle, and the whisperkit chased them round and round the moisture vaporator until they collapsed in exhaustion, laughing.

"Luke! Time to come in!"

Luke sighed, knowing he could no longer ignore the call. Windy smiled to him before he hopped to his feet, brushing sand from his hair and looking into the horizon, "There's my parents speeder. I gotta go - my Dad's gonna kill me!"

Luke waved as his friend raced off, Piri following close behind, to the landspeeder in the distance; he gathered his toy landspeeder and began quickly toward his sandy hovel. The suns were nearly set, and Luke could see as he approached that Uncle Owen had already switched on the security lights and sent out the KPR droids to patrol. _Not good_, he thought as he ran down the flight out stairs leading to the underground compound.

Luke stepped slowly into the small kitchen of his home, finding his aunt and uncle there waiting. Aunt Beru leaned against the sink, drying dishes with her apron. Her hair the colour of his own was pulled loosely back and her blue eyes like his own were soft in relief. People often thought Beru was his mother. Luke didn't mind.

Uncle Owen sat at the dinner table, fiddling with a droid submotor; he looked tired - both physically and emotionally. The face was shadowed with hair, and dirty from work in the sands; no one ever thought Uncle Owen was his father.

Luke stood, looking back and forth to each of them, waiting. He knew he had to be told to sit first. His eager little mind raced in excitement of asking his question. His palms felt warm and he wiggled his toes, unable to be still.

"Sit down, Luke."

Luke complied, sitting at the end of the table and placing his speeder before him. Uncle Owen continued, not looking him in the eyes. "Why didn't you come when your aunt called?"

Luke hesitated, his Uncle's gaze finding him sternly and his own looking to his hands. Maybe this was not a time to ask. "I - I was just talking to Windy, sir."

"About what?"

Luke winced. This was his chance. He bit his lip, suddenly afraid, but knowing he shouldn't lie. He could see how his uncle was, though, and his breaths quickened.

"You don't have to be afraid, Luke." Aunt Beru said gently; Uncle Owen looked to her impatiently, "Beru, let him talk -"

"I want something for my birthday!" Luke finally blurted.

The silence, pierced by sand crickets and wind, gave Luke a chill, as did Uncle Owen's words. He sat up, impatience and rudeness in the tone. "And what would that be, hm?"

Luke whispered, looking to his aunt, "I would like a pet for my birthday." He looked to the man, "A whisperkit, sir."

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru exchanged a glance, the woman appearing more understanding than the man. They spoke wordlessly, a tilt of the head, a raising of brows. Luke felt butterflies in his stomach, and he clenched his toes anxiously.

Aunt Beru sat at the table, putting a hand over Luke's. "Luke, this is a big decision, one we'll have to think about. Animals are hard work -"

"And they die." Uncle Owen had put his face in his hands, "Whisperkits die on Tatooine."

Luke was choked by the words, shaking his head in denial, "Windy's is alive -"

"Windy bought his from a passing merchant, who sold it probably because it was sick anyways. Pick something else."

"Owen!" Aunt Beru cried.

"We might as well tell him the truth!" Owen addressed his wife sternly.

Luke, strangely, grew angry. He did not usually lash back at his aunt and uncle, but felt then he could not help himself. "I can keep it alive. I promise!"

"That is not something you can promise Luke -"

"I will! I swear!"

"Enough!" Uncle Owen slammed his palm onto the table, making the others jump, his voice coarse, "You are not getting a pet, do you hear me? Pets are money. Money we don't have and won't waste on something that's going to die in a week, you understand?"

Luke stared blankly at his uncles accusing finger, the one he only pointed when he was very, very upset. His lips trembled. It wasn't fair. Luke knew he had to be a good boy, to listen and obey, but he was tired of Uncle Owen always getting mad.

"No." Luke said.

"Excuse me?" Uncle Owen asked sharply, though he heard very clearly what the boy had said.

Luke pounded one little fist onto the table, repeating with conviction, "_No_! You buy droids and speeders and Aunt Beru buys her things - I need something too! All my friends have a new things, and I only want this one thing. Please, Uncle Owen?"

The boy breathed quickly, relieved by his confession but knowing the consequences. Uncle Owen stared, stock-stiff and still, and spoke under his breath in a tone dangerously low.

"How dare you disrespect me, your aunt, and all the work we've done for you -" Uncle Owen grabbed Luke's small arm harshly and pulled him to his feet.

Luke gave a cry of hurt, and Aunt Beru moved to them, grabbing Owen's shoulder and protesting, "Owen, he's just a boy -"

"Back away, Beru." Uncle Owen warned, his tone speaking louder than his words. His wife obeyed, releasing her grip and stepping back.

Luke rubbed his arm, trembling before the man, tears welling in his eyes. He could feel a darkness, a fire, seconds before his uncle acted - seconds too late. The hand reached into his tunic and grabbed at -

Uncle Owen tugged the leather strung necklace off of him, Luke's stomach sinking with dread. "_No_ -"

The boy was struck sharply across the face with the back of a strong hand, and knocked to his bottom. For a moment, he sat stunned. If he was ever hit by his uncle, it was for punishment. But Luke could not figure out what he had done wrong.

Luke, though his lips trembled and tears came in a weak sob, saw his aunt move toward him, but with a sharp look Owen stopped her again. He firmed his voice, showing no sympathy to the boy as he tossed the necklace on the sandy floor.

"We are leaving tomorrow for Alderaan. Your aunt's cousin is dead, and we have to attend the funeral and help pay the expenses. We have no money for anything else but this trip, unless you want to go without food for a few days. Go to your room, pack your things and go to bed, you hear?"

"Yes sir." Luke grabbed the necklace and scampered away to his room, not bothering to retrieve his precious toy speeder, slamming the door behind himself and pressing his back up against it. Luke held his necklace tightly, stroking the rough edge and smooth edge, the carved parts, and calming. He did not know what would have happened without it. His breathes were shuddered and weak, and he hiccuped and covered his mouth to make sure they didn't hear him cry.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading! Please review too!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hey! Merry Christmas! Like I said, I tried to update once a week but Christmas and everything...yeah. Anyways, big hugs and thanks to HollisterGuyzAreHot, FireShifter, charmedjedi, weirdsquirrelgirl, Taeniaea, Momo Spock, Bloody Phantom and Sherry for reviews! I love you guys! Reviews are awesome to me! _**

**_So to make up posting late, I made this chapter long! (and apologies if Rabè's last name is wrong ...) Please give feedback, for I appreciate it. Okay, I know you're like "alright already!" so here it is! Enjoy! :D_**

* * *

. . . _inside the darkness. Luke squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears, but he kept hearing the voice screaming and wailing and the roaring winds that chilled him. It was like being in the pit of Beggar's Canyon, but worse. Far worse._

_"Tell me. Tell me! You cannot be silent anymore, now tell me!"_

_Luke shook his head, feeling, _knowing_ he could not. But what did the voice want? _

_"Tell me now!"_

_"No!" Luke shrieked. He was scared. _

_"Then she dies with you." _

_First, Luke heard a scream, but not his or the voices. One high and shrill from a little girl. Luke could not let them hurt her too. "No!"_

_Then, a new voice, "Unhand them. This is not their doing."_

_And suddenly a brightness took away all the dark, and Luke opened his eyes . . ._

* * *

Luke Skywalker held tightly to his aunt Beru's hand, clutching his knapsack with the other. Beings pushed and shoved him around, not caring about his little form, as they stood in the throng of impatient people at the transit speeder station in the heart of Mos Espa. The hour was tedious, the suns hidden yet from the hazy morning sky; it reminded Luke of an ocean, a real one, though he had never seen one. Maybe he would on Alderaan.

Uncle Owen held their other bags uncomfortably. His eyes were drawn in squint, standing tiptoe as he searched above the crowd. "Are you sure it was the six-fifteen Beru?"

"Yes, Owen, calm yourself. We won't be late." Aunt Beru tucked stray hair behind her ear, squeezing the boys hand a little as she too watched for their transport.

Luke hoped they would be late. Maybe then they would not have to go, or spend the money on tickets and funeral. It was his cousin Desdon that had died, Aunt Beru's cousin; the boy never knew him, though he still felt sad because his aunt was. He wished that he hadn't died at all.

Luke released his aunts hand for a moment to rub his neck; it was stiff from sleeping against his door all night. He hadn't meant to sleep there, but had been too scared to make any noise and awaken his uncle.

_But it wasn't all that bad_, Luke thought. He recalled his dream, and smiled. He did dream often, about his father flying spice frigates and thinking about him, and of his mother and him if she were alive. Sometimes even about his whisperkit he wanted, a baby one that was black like the nighttime that he always named Moon.

But Luke had dreamt a strange dream. One he did not understand, even still.

Distracted, the little boy did not notice his aunt and uncle speaking to one another, whispering. Luke could hear them, though, even over the noise, like usual.

". . . cannot be so harsh to the boy. He is only a child, he does not understand -"

"Then I'll make him." Uncle Owen bit back, "He cannot expect, now or ever, that he will get his way by mouthing off."

"He feels left out because of the way we live."

"Well, we can't change that can we?"

Luke winced, hating the thought. They weren't poor. But sometimes, other kids called him that.

"It would not be all that bad," His aunts voice was sweet and tender in negotiating, being the only person that could negotiate with Owen, "a pet. It would teach responsibility - "

"After cleaning out our savings." Owen ran a hand through his dark hair, "Beru, as much as I want to appease the boy, we have bills to pay, rent to owe, and our water certainly isn't free ever since he started growing."

"Now, you can't blame him for that."

Owen was silent, if for a moment. "The funeral. Beru, if it weren't for that I'd consider it. We just can't do it right now."

"Not now." Luke whispered to himself. It was the reply he recieved most often from them. A new tunic - not now. More water - not now. A rest from cleaning evaporators, not now. Luke wished he could have something right them, he wished for his own choice. And to have one present for his birthday, which was only in two more sleeps.

"Are you doing alright Luke?" Aunt Beru looked down to him, and Luke nodded. He hadn't really been talking to them. He was still upset from last night.

"May I walk down to the end of the platform and back please Aunt Beru? Just a little?" Luke was tired of standing around.

Aunt Beru hesitated. She always worried about him, but that made Luke feel safe. "I trust you to come straight back, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am."

Luke smiled and skipped off into the crowd, weaving through the people like he were a speeder in an obstacle course. There were tall beings and small ones. He waved to the little children he passed, most of them dirty looking but they still smiled as he zoomed past, whirring and rumbling like a speeder. Luke wished he had his toy speeder to play with -

"Excuse me?"

Luke looked up at the voice, seeing a tall man in a blue uniform smiling down at him. The eyes were dark, and Luke was unsure of replying. He wasn't to talk to strangers. The man squatted before him, and Luke saw clearer his face; he wasn't old, but more like Uncle Owen's age. The clean-shaven face was stern even though he smiled softly, as if he usually frowned. His voice was stern sounding too, even in a whisper. "Are you here alone?"

". . . no." Luke bit his lip unsurely, "I'm to go to the end of the platform and back, sir. Excuse me - "

"Just a moment, boy, I only need to ask for your help. Can you help me?"

Luke shrugged. The man ruffled his hair with another grin, but Luke didn't like it and pulled the hand away.

"Alright, alright, don't get touchy." The man gave a bit of a scowl, straightening his collar, "You don't happen to know any Lars' that live in these parts, now do you?"

Luke froze. What was he to say? Certainly not that he _was_ one - _but I cannot lie, for that's dishonest and Uncle Owen always says_ -

"Hm? Do you?" The man shifted to a knee, placing his hands on Luke's shoulders, "This is very important. I have business concerning the Empire tied to this family."

Luke suddenly recognized the uniform, the insignia on his breastpocket and all the little pins and badges he wore. He had heard of the Empire on the HoloNet at Windy's house. It was never of good news. Only bad. Luke knew that he was certainly not to talk to anyone from the Empire; his feelings told him he was not safe.

The man continued, voice softer than before, "You know the Empire boy? I'm sure you must - "

"Let go." Luke wiggled a little, but the man tightened and pulled him nearer. Luke's eyes grew wide, and he couldn't breathe.

"Just tell me where Owen and Beru Lars are, and no one gets hurt - "

"Let go!" The boy writhed, the feelings inside him flaring with anger. He closed his eyes, breathing quickly; something sparked inside of him -

Luke's eyes flew open, and he let out a small noise as he felt a strange rush fill him, and he sent it toward the man. The man gave a shout, something causing him to tumble backwards to his bottom away from Luke. The people standing around stepped back, some exclaiming in surprise. The man's dark eyes narrowed.

"You . . ." He growled.

Luke recoiled, blue eyes wide.

". . . Luke? Luke!"

_Aunt Beru!_ He wanted to run to her safety, but he could not let the man find her and Uncle Owen! Panicked, Luke did not hesitate to dart into the mix of people frantically, hearing the man cry after him and heavy footsteps on the duracrete in pursuit. The station was bustling and very, very busy, but Luke knew he was fast enough to outrun the tall man, just like a speeder in an obstacle course. He hesitated, seeing only legs and feet moving about, but took a breath and began in a sprint.

"Stop him! Stop that boy!" The voice was audible, but growing less. Luke pressed on, dodging the beings swiftly, slipping beneath legs and past security gates. His cloth-bound feet scampered down flights of stairs, hearing the voice of his follower dim to nothing.

Soon Luke stopped once he felt safe, huffing tiredly. He looked about himself, seeing by the signs that he must have been in the lobby where tickets were sold; people approached many booths in long lines, while others sat about on benches or waited for their luggage. Luke clutched his knapsack, looking to the big clock above everything. Luke was only beginning to read chronometers, but he could read it then.

It said 6:25. His speeder left at 6:15.

Luke's little heart stopped. What was he to do? Aunt Beru only told him what to do if he were lost in Anchorhead, not the speeder station! _Maybe it's the same_, he thought, _I have to find Aunt Beru. She must have already came looking for me!_

Desperate, he looked around, but he was small and could not see very well. He tried a different tactic.

"Aunt Beru? Uncle Owen?" Luke said softly, pushing through into the lines of people. People stared at him as he shoved through, and Luke's voice grew in panic, "Aunt Beru? Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen's gonna kill me!"

Luke did not want him to be upset he got lost, but he was beginning to get scared. He tried not to think of what more hurt Uncle Owen could do, but tears found his eyes as he pressed through blindly, "Aunt Beru! Aunt Beru! Help, Aunt Beru - "

"Gotcha, ya little runt!"

Luke's small forearm was seized in a harsh grip, and he looked up to see the tall man again and tried to scream but nothing came out. He had found him.

"You're not going anywhere!" The man pulled Luke into the shadows of an alley between two buildings, grabbing his other little arm and holding Luke up close to his face. Luke squirmed, for it hurt him, but he still was stricken dumb; things were suddenly very distant and dizzy, and slow. He needed his necklace, but could not reach it.

"Now tell me! Tell me where it is!"

It was just like his dream.

The man shook Luke roughly and pressed him back against the rough building, letting him fall to the ground. Then, in pain, Luke whimpered. The man snatched his knapsack and emptied the contents onto the sand, sifting through the clothes and other things. Luke reached into his pocket, searching for his necklace -

"Tell me! Where is the necklace?!" The man shook Luke again, and the boy's head hit and hit and hit the wall.

"No . . . " Luke whimpered, shaking his head, but the man snarled and hit him again. "I know you have it, you - "

A shadow passed over them suddenly, and they both looked up to a dark cloaked figure. It showed no aggression, but extreme authority.

The man shoved Luke into the sand as he stood and scampered away faster than he had seen anyone run before, kicking dust up behind him. Luke himself tried to move, but his head throbbed terribly and he only watched hazily as the figure knelt before him.

Luke looked up, though his eyes were heavy, "Help . . . please, no . . ."

A hand found his cheek, resting there and brushing away his tears. The touch . . . was gentle, the presence comforting. Luke felt, in the place of his special feelings that he was safe. The figure removed his hood, and though things seemed to be darkening Luke made out a pair of blue-grey eyes that were familiar and comforting.

"Hello there." It whispered.

The boy felt strong arms cradle him as his eyes finally closed, warmth lulling him to darkness.

* * *

Leia did not enjoy going to meetings. They were long and most often uninteresting. Even worse though, she did not like being lead to them by her father.

The two walked rapidly, passerby's moving way, down the long palace halls. Her daddy's shoes clicked on the marble floors, and Leia clutched her bantha tightly for she barely kept her little pink loafers in step with him.

"Daddy . . . do we has to walk so fast?" Leia managed, nearly tripping.

"Do we _have_ to," Her Father corrected, "and yes, since we are so late. You've kept your mother waiting for far too long, so we must hurry."

"Do you really has to pull me there?"

"Do I _have_ to, and yes since you refused to follow."

"Yeah, but by my ear?"

Her Father shrugged, "If so it be, than be it done."

That was what her mother said. Leia huffed, blowing a strand of hair dangling on her forehead that she had purposefully tugged free from her tightly woven braids. Rena had managed, after a good and worthy fuss from Leia, to get it plaited. Her father had held her to the chair, but it had been done. A lecture she'd just received on behavior again - "Princesses don't do this, or that and most certainly not that!" - like usual. Her daddy had threatened to postpone her upcoming birthday celebration, and Leia had complied only because of that. She had been waiting too long already, preparing for hours. The braids were worth it - but then, it sure did not feel like it.

_Ugly. Ugly braids! _Leia thought, scowling to the nursemaids who passed by giggling; she occasionally gave them tongue in return. _I wish my hair was short and brown like Oori's. _

Father turned a corner, tugging Leia a bit again, but she didn't complain this time. She knew why they were so hurried, or she was almost sure. Meetings with her mummy and daddy were usually about politics or money. Or the "_Enpire_", but Leia didn't know what that was and didn't really care. The meeting today was about some people who had died in an attack, and it had been called in an emergency. Leia did not usually attend these kind, and was excited. It meant she was "maturing" as her mummy said. She was, after all, almost six years old -

"Your Highness. How quaint to stumble upon you this morning."

Leia cringed at the shrill voice, fighting back a groan. _Not him again!_ Her daddy stopped walking but held tightly to Leia. "Sir Erasmus, good day to you. Was your excursion to the Outer Rim successful?"

"It was certainly . . . informative. I do assume that the information I have acquired will make up for my rather . . . unpleasant journey."

Leia peeked out from behind her daddy's leg, seeing the form of the tall, lean man dressed in a suit of Alderaanian colours. His shoes were shiny and his collar buttoned rightly to the top. Mother often whispered that Sir Erasmus was thin as a promise and as proper as a tea party. This made Leia laugh as she watched the man's face, the slim brown mustache twitching as he spoke, "How is the princess?"

Leia hated how he said prin_cess_ instead of_ prin_cess. She clutched her daddy, hiding her face again.

"Fine, just fine, thank you. We are off to the meeting, and are in a hurry -"

"I just needed to inform you about the princess' studies." Erasmus' tone was sharp, and Leia huffed this time, "I must request a private lesson today as well as later in the evening. After yesterday's incident -"

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Leia." Father silenced her, sending an icy look from the brown eyes like her own. Leia looked back desperately, but pursed her lips. "Is this a concern about her learning ability?"

"The contrary - her inability." Sir Erasmus scowled as Leia looked up to him, giving him tongue as well. "Any time after noon will do fine; I have business to attend to off planet this morning."

"Surely. Farewell."

Leia watched her teacher stroll past and, feeling her father's grip loosened, tried to escape it -

"Not so fast, young lady." Leia's ear was released as Father grabbed her under the armpits, propping her on his hip. She sighed and rubbed her ear in relieve.

Father looked to her solemnly as he carried her, "Do you have something to say about this 'incident'?"

"Sir Erasmus taught me that everyone ages and all will die. I asked him if _he_ was close to death, for he does has grey hairs, but he got upset."

"Oh." Father was hiding a smile.

"Daddy, I do not wish to upset you, but I do not like studies!" Leia said, in her most proper tone, "They are not fun."

"I know, my dear, but they are required. You are lucky to have such a nice tutor - "

"Sir Erasmus is rude. He never listens to me when I say things and only teaches boring. I liked my other tutor better, daddy." Leia made a pouty face, but her father didn't take it.

Ever since Sir Erasmus had arrived Leia had begged for a new tutor. Father insisted that they weren't going to change. "Don't get any ideas darling. We are keeping him. "

Father's pace slowed, and Leia looked around, recognizing the area of the palace - the hall had opened up to a tall room with a domed roof, ribbed columns about and a statue in the centre. Doors leading into meeting rooms and suites circled the marbly walls of ivory, and Father approached one. He took Leia's hand in his, raising it to have her focus on him. Leia made sure to. He put her finger before her lips, gesturing silence; Leia nodded, whispering, "Shh!"

Her father gave an appreciative nod. Leia's daddy was a kind man, but very solemn. Leia could bring him most pleasure by simply being obedient. He pushed the doors open before them and the small room was dark inside, but Leia could see a long table in the middle of it illuminated by a holoscreen on the far wall. She instantly scanned the table for her mommy; a pretty headdress caught her eye, and she saw the profile of Mother's face.

"Daddy!" Leia pointed to her mommy, but Father hushed her, pointing instead to holoscreen. The little girl listened and watched.

". . . _and an attack was eminent. The bomb was released at 14:00 hours, obliterating much of the building and setting fire to any surrounding settlements . . ."_

"What happened daddy?" Leia looked to her daddy's tense face near hers, his eyes watching the holo intently. She could feel his sadness suddenly, but he only shook his head, directing her to the screen once more.

". . . _including Yoth Terun, Fedder Urson and Desdon Whitesun. The sole survivor, Rabè Sifora, who some may know as former handmaiden to the late Senator Padmè Amidala, has provided authorities little information at this point_."

Leia watched the pictures of each name flash, the men and women and aliens, and the one that she liked the most of a pretty lady lying in blue, white flowers all in her dark hair. What did the holo say her name was again? Padmè.

". . . _as suspicions grow. Emperor Palpatine has not released a statement at this time, but authorities are pointing fingers to the notorious Lord Vader, seen on Alderaan on political address before the attack and assumed to have fled soon thereafter. Vader's _

_ruthlessness is not surprising, but his tactics are. Authorities have no solid link to the location, the dead or the survivor to him; no motive for the attack is evident. Police do assure, though, that this incendiary will indeed be rooted out and rooted out soon_."

The lights came up, and Leia squinted and rubbed her eyes, seeing blearily the attendants rise and begin to mull out of the room quietly. Father carried her over to meet Mother, who rose and kissed him on the cheek. Mother stroked Leia's hair gently as the girl laid her head upon her daddy's shoulder.

Mother whispered, but Leia could hear; she had grown to decipher her parents whispers down to a science, "They post-poned the discussion, out of respect, until after the funerals."

Daddy nodded, "Which will be . . . ?"

"The memorial service is tommorrow, and we were asked to attend. They insisted that we personally speak to Rabè, sice we were close to Padmè. We will bring her comfort -"

"Padmè." Leia said, and her parents looked to her with tensed eyes.

"What's that, my love?" Mother asked softly.

Leia repeated herself, "Padmè! The pretty lady in the holo, sleeping."

Leia's mommy looked to her daddy, who's face looked suddenly upset, and she placed a hand on his face and nodded. Leia knew that they spoke very often to each other without saying anything, but this time Leia could not understand them.

Mother looked to her again, and Leia could see a sadness in her eyes too. "The lady was not sleeping, my dear. Senator Amidala died a few years ago; she was daddy's good friend."

Leia picked her head up, looking to her father who watched ahead blankly. She realized why he, and mother, were sad. The lady had been very pretty and was probably nice too. Leia felt sorry for her daddy.

"She was a nice friend daddy?"

Father snapped out of his daze like trance, looking over to his daughter in smile, "Yes, child. She was very kind."

"How did she die, daddy?" Leia inquired, but her daddy hesitated. He put his strong hand upon her chestnut hair and kissed it, whispering, "Time for a nap, little one. You have studies, and then more celebration preparation to do. We'll talk later."

Leia nodded slowly, her parents exiting the viewing room and starting down the long halls. Leia rested her head again on the shoulder that carried her; her thumb on the hand clutching Oori found her mouth, while and her other hand found her necklace. Her eyes felt heavy, but her mind was alive with wonder about the pretty lady in blue as she fell asleep.

_Surely, she must have been smart. And surely very, very kind_. Leia thought, remembering the holo say "senator", so she was a politician. _Maybe a wife or a mother too_. Leia did not know why this intrigued her so, but she knew she would have to find out more about this lady.

_And I shan't bother daddy. I must find out myself_. Leia decided with a smile. The thoughts carried into her sleep, and soon her dreams.

* * *

The atmosphere of Alderaan was nothing but a hiding spot in plain sight for the Imperial-class Star Destroyer _Vengeance. _The warship followed the night, always looming within the darkness of the planet. No one had trusted the plan would work from the start, but when Lord Vader had made the command no one had dared to defy it.

No one, except for a privileged few, knew what exactly their objective was. And those privileged few where the ones keeping the operation . . . _operational_.

But tensions were growing high. Six day had past with no wandering escort cars or policing, and not a word from Adleraanian Landing Control. Some of the officers teased that Vader himself killed off all of the security, while some others knew it was just a matter of time. Again, they were blind to the intricate and stealthy planning of High Lieutenant Fidel, who indeed held their entire operation together.

Him, or Lord Vader himself. Either way, things seemed to be unraveling. But maybe, they were just coming together.

* * *

". . . and the planet's security was certainly not of high standards, my lord, indeed the contrary."

"I know, lieutenant. Tatooine is far too familiar to me." The deep voice gave the man a worthy chill.

Lieutenant Fidel fought not to wring his hands. Lord Vader stared across at him over a small command module in a small meeting area of the starship, black helmet unmoving, rasping into the chilled dimness. The form was tensed, shadowed by Grand Moff Tarkin, and displeased. Fidel had not brought him any good news so far. The lieutenant just hoped he would leave without suffocation.

Fidel coughed at the thought, continuing, "The coordinates you provided me were difficult to find, but I did manage to come upon a small homestead, my lord. I searched throughout the area and came up empty, the hovel locked and the inhabitants missing - "

"You missed them? We've been monitoring them for two weeks - they never leave home and you _missed_ them?!"

The incredulous voice of Wilhuff Tarkin was never a sound Lieutenant Fidel enjoyed; he would rather stuff his ears with myrmins. He was nothing but a prick, and Vader's little puppet. He knew the feeling was mostly of jealously, but denied it.

"I can assure you, _Tarkin_, that I did not leave empty handed in the literal sense - "

"But you did physically." Tarkin raised his brows, sunken in cheekbones profiling his sharp annoyance.

"One could say such, yes. But my lord, just before my departure I stumbled upon a boy who I assume was the nephew of the Lars'. He denied it, and I was certain he had . . . your item, sir."

"But you failed to retrieve it." Tarkin said with a smirk. "Outsmarted by a child . . . tsk tsk lieutenant, tsk tsk."

Fidel scowled.

"You are certain, then, that this . . . _boy_ is indeed the nephew of Owen and Beru Lars?" Vader rumbled.

Fidel, intimidated by the voice, nearly forgot to reply. "I have only minimal doubts, my lord. The Lars' are headed to Alderaan, and should enter the system this evening. I intended to meet them there - "

"No, lieutenant. You know you have other business to attend to. We must stay discrete until the time is right." Vader stood, and Tarkin stepped to the door to usher him, "Tarkin will supervise the position of the Lars family. I will summon you when I require an update. And do not come back empty handed next time."

Lord Vader pointed a stern gloved finger, and Fidel gave a salut as he departed with a rush of his black cape.

Tarkin smirked as he followed with a two fingered salut, the door closing with a thump.

Lieutenant Fidel gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. He would not fail. This operation would finally rank him second-in-command, it would gain him respect and of course the pleasure of power. The offer was far too tempting.

He would find Lord Vader his necklace.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, okay, I haven't updated in a little while. I'm not one for excuses, but I had the worst, awfulest, dreadfulest cold ever. I could barely breathe, and my diet consisted mainly of Buckley's cough syrup :P Next post will hopefully be next week or very soon after BUT no promises ;) So to make up (again) for a late post, long chapter! :D **

**First, shoutouts and hugs go to my awesome reviewers - ****_Bloody Phantom, FireShifter, sherryf, novelreader_**** and ****_Momo Spock *muah*_**** Kisses too! I love reveiws!**

**And, bonus bonus, ****_FireShifter_**** has drawn up some fanart for this fic titled "Revelation" - check it out on deviantart.**

**So enough waiting, here it is. Enjoy! :D**

* * *

_"Anakin?" Padmè Amidala questioned gently, lounging on the sofa off of her apartments balcony. _

_The night sky of Coruscant surrounded her, and the curtains billowed about as a breeze touched her dark hair. The hour was late, the senator exhausted from the days ordeals. It did not help that she had to carry extra weight around either. Padmè rubbed her belly affectionately. Normally, one in her situation would simply wish for maternity leave. Of course, Padmè knew that her baby and her circumstances were far from normal._

_"Ani, come quickly!" She called again, and she heard her husband rush at the urgent tone she had put in her voice._

_"What? What's wrong, Padmè?" Anakin Skywalker stepped onto the balcony, pulling on his sleep pants half-dressed and a piece of juba fruit between his teeth, his reply garbled, "You okay?"_

_"Come . . ." Padmè beckoned him nearer to sit aside her, taking the strong hand and placing it upon her belly. "Feel now."_

_A look of intensity crossed the young mans face as he waited, and then one of joyful surprise, the fruit falling from his mouth. Anakin grinned, whispering as if not to disturb the unborn, "Has Obi-Wan been teaching her already? Boy, has that little one got a kick! She's a fighter, isn't she?" _

_Padmè smiled, taking the fruit from him and munching, "He's always active. Always on the move, like another Skywalker I know - "_

_"Or feisty, like a certain Senator . . .." _

_He tickled her lightly, and Padmè shrieked and wriggled from him; she hated when he did that, and he loved it. _

_Anakin laughed gently, resting his arm on the sofa behind her, fingers stroking his wife's neck, "Feisty, yet gentle. Strong, yet beautiful."_

_"Or brave yet humble." Padmè rested her head on his chest, "I wonder what it is. Enough of our guesses."_

_Anakin nodded, though his eyes stared at Padmè's chest and lingered. Self-consciously, Padmè drew her night-robe over herself, but he only reached over and parted her gown, fingers finding the japor snippet resting on her chest, "You know how people use rings to determine the sex of a baby?"_

_"No." Padmè admitted. Anakin slipped the necklace off her head, "Couples string a ring onto a string, and the hold it above the unborn baby . . ."_

_"That's not a ring, Ani."_

_"I know. It's good luck though," He dangled the necklace above Padmè's prominent stomach, continuing, "If it rotates in a circle, the child is a girl . . . if it goes back and forth, it's a boy."_

_Padmè watched the necklace in front of her carefully, the breeze not disturbing them then, as it swung too and fro over her. "A boy!" She cried, "I was right - "_

_"Wait." Anakin silenced, seeing the necklace sway around and around, "Ha. Told you - "_

_The necklace stopped, going from circular motions to back and forth again, and before any of them could protest, back to circular. The two looked at each other. For a moment, they shared a look of wonder, bright and burning, and they laughed._

_"Still think this things good luck?" Anakin whispered, nuzzling his wife's neck lovingly, and she smiled and closed her eyes. _

_"I want our baby to have it. Your necklace, Ani." Padmè whispered, "I want us to always be near to them, for them to know how much our love means."_

_". . . as long as they don't use it as a teething toy. That thing means a lot to me . . ."_

_Their laughter lingered longer than before._

* * *

The transit speeder rumbled noisily to a stop at the Alderaanian terminal, inhabitants bustling about and retrieving luggage, rushing to get home at the late hour. The passengers had changed en route to Alderaan from the seedy characters of Tatooine to the higher class citizens. It was an average crowd to the unknowing eye, besides for two figures amongst them.

A man, protective of a little grimy child asleep on a passenger bench, stood wary and still amidst them. They appeared simply like a vagrant father and son; truly, they were two of most important beings in the galaxy.

"_Terminal closing . . . final departure, Nubian sector . . ."_ The speakerphone announced coarsely. The strong arms lifted the boy under the armpits gently, stroking the sun-bleached hair with content.

Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed, thankful the child was in the safety of his embrace; in fact, he hadn't realized how worried he was until then, his head throbbing with a post-stress ache. A chuckle escaped him as he made way out of the speeder onto the landing platform outdoors, _Skywalker's. When will I ever learn . . . _

That morning, Obi-Wan had felt more than just worried. Much more. But in all honesty, he was glad the occurrence had happened.

Ever since his arrival with Luke on Tatooine those years ago, he had kept a careful and concerned eye on him, from a distance sometimes and others very closely. It was his mission, after all, and he would rather be playing eavesdropper than weeding his makeshift sand-garden and getting sunburned. Often he would travel to Anchourhead in knowledge of a family outing and simply wait for the Lars', just to see the boy.

A little gentleman Luke always seemed to be, walking closely beside his aunt and carrying groceries for her; a charmer, certainly the Skywalker in him. Obi-Wan had often ached to talk with the child, even for just moments, but knew full well of Owen Lars' warning to keep his leave. It was during those times of observation that the Jedi had memorized Luke's Force signature, enabling him insight to any subtleties the Force could grant on the boys well-being.

That morning past, Obi-Wan had felt the disturbance, the strong shift, sharp and clear. He had already known the family was in the city and had barely managed to hitch a ride, with the Jawa's he had long ago befriended, to the transit station, but he had arrived just in time.

Obi-Wan felt his brow furrowed in concerned remembrance. He had pondered the entire trip why an Empirial officer would be questioning the boy. He hadn't wanted Luke, and he hadn't found what he was looking for - these things Obi-Wan knew certainly. It put him ill at ease to know the Empire had managed to track him down.

_At least they did not take him, _Obi-Wan soothed himself, rousing the boy awake with the Force gently as they reached the end of the duracrete platform. He had kept him sleeping during their long journey with the same medium, in order not to frighten him. _He is safe with me._

Obi-Wan set the boy gently down on the duracrete, kneeling before him. He chuckled as he blinked owlishly, "Tired, little one?"

The boy nodded, rubbing his heavy blue eyes. "Uncle Owen . . . we on Alderaan yet?"

"Yes young one," Obi-Wan watched the little eyes realize who he was, "Don't be scared, I won't harm you."

"You're . . . a friend." Luke said sleepily, at ease despite not knowing the man.

The figure smiled, stroking the blonde hair, "Clever little one, much like another Skywalker I knew."

"I'm Luke Skywalker - did you know my father?"

The man licked his lips, looking away in quiet reflection. "Yes. We were good friends. You can call me Obi - . . . call me Ben."

"Mr. Ben . . . where did my aunt and uncle go?"

"They are here on Alderaan; on Tatooine, they did not realize you did not board the speeder with them. I commed your aunt and uncle, and they know you are safe with me. I just need to talk to them again and find out where they are staying so I can take you there."

What happened to me?" Luke asked, eyes tearing, "The Empire man . . . he tried to take - he's going to find me - "

"Shh, hush little one." The Jedi rubbed the shoulders gently, moving to wipe his tears -

"No - " Luke started, grabbing the hand before it could touch his cheek anymore. The tone of his voice was . . . hurt.

Obi-Wan wrinkled his brow, inspecting his hand that had grown discolored with a flesh-colored substance. "What's this?"

Luke slipped the hand away, growing quiet and still. The man asked again, "Luke. What is this?"

". . . makeup."

"Makeup?" Obi-Wan was concerned - did the boy have a low self image? What in the galaxy would drive a boy to wear makeup? "Let me see."

Luke hid his face in his hands, turning away, "I can't."

Obi-Wan could sense the fear, naive yet sharp as a vibroblade. He, if anyone, knew exactly what fear lead to.

He placed a hand on Luke's small shoulder, sending a bit of soothing to him in the Force and the boy looked to him at the concerned touch, face streaked with sadness. Obi-Wan turned the boy to face him and wiped the tears again before stroking the cheek, revealing the mark once masqueraded.

It was bluish and deep in the fair skin, resting just below the eye and swollen; it was not an accidental bruise Obi-Wan could tell, but a disciplinary blow. Another tear found his thumb in examination, Luke's lips trembling from the discomfort. A cold, hard emotion turned Obi-Wan's stomach in a knot.

"Who did this to you?" He asked softly, forcing his voice to calm though it was coarse with his anger. Luke could barely speak, holding back his tears.

". . . Uncle - . . . O-Owen."

"Why did he hit you?"

"I disobeyed, I - I was a bad boy . . . and I deserved to be punished." Luke said the words coldly, and Obi-Wan knew they were rehearsed.

He kept the glossy blue eyes in focus with his own, "What did you do?"

"I . . . asked for a . . . a - a whisperkit for my birth-birthday."

_And he was struck? For a childish desire?_ The disgust, Obi-Wan swallowed back like a pill. Owen Lars' tolerance, his self-control the Jedi had witnessed first-hand, and was not surprised. Yet, even from a man so firm he did not understand how he could willingly hit the child . . . _for something as innocent as this_.

Obi-Wan remembered, suddenly and without warning, a young Anakin requesting to be struck for disobedience. _"It is what I deserve_." The Padawan had said, "_It is what I need."_

It had broken Obi-Wan's heart. Watto had beaten the boy, but he hadn't understood why the boy desired it again. He hadn't offered a word of correction, a punishment, and definitely not a beating. Obi-Wan had simply sent him to bed. Maybe he should have done something. It had guilted him for weeks afterward.

Obi-Wan stared upon the frightened face of the little boy before him. This, so it seemed, was his second chance.

"Luke, there is never a reason to hurt someone for disobeying. Not a good reason, or a bad reason. Especially since what you have done is not wrong. Do you understand?"

Luke nodded.

"Has Uncle Owen hit you before?"

Luke nodded.

Obi-Wan wanted the boy to understand, firming his tone, "No one deserves to be treated that way."

Obi-Wan lifted the boy into his arms and embraced him gently. Luke wiped his face gently, smiling a little, and Obi-Wan took the hand in his again, "Now lets see if we can't find a public comlink . . ."

* * *

. _. . closing her eyes, though she watched everything from apart Leia knew it was her there, somewhere. She remembered. _

_The woman in white with dark hair was young and sad, tired and crying. The man held a baby and the baby cried too. The woman, Leia recognized._

_Padmè! Leia tried to say, but was torn away from it -_

_. . . Nubian Lake Country. Leia watched a man before a younger Daddy and Mother give a baby a necklace - Leia's necklace. _

_"A gift . . . " The man with the auburn hair said, but suddenly a darkness swept that away, winds whirled like an awful rainstorm and Leia grabbed her ears, hating the sound. _

_"Tell me!" Something screamed, and something else, "No!"_

_The other voice was small. It was only a child._

_"Then she dies . . ."_

_Leia heard herself scream, something hurting inside her, but a bright light took it away . . . _

* * *

"State your request."

"Information database please," Leia whispered to her small cubish study droid 3B-TB, stroking Oori's fur gently, "And be quiet, please."

"Is my vocal receptor processing too audibly your Highness?" The high pitched voice softened, but Leia shook her head. "I don't need anyone else to hear, that's all."

Leia looked around the private classroom just go be sure, seeing no cameras or people. She had waited for Sir Erasmus to slip out for his tea break before taking 3B out of the storage closet. Leia was only allowed to use him when searching for star maps or information during studies, but he was a very clever droid and he would know the answer to her questions.

Leia had barely been able to focus during her study time, her mind awhirl still. The dream she had dreamt during her naptime had been vivid. Leia had not been able to get it out of her head: the woman, the man, her necklace. The things she'd seen, felt like memories and not dreams. Leia was confused, almost frightened. But she knew what she had to do. All throughout she had devised a plan, one to find out all she needed about this woman.

Just then, Leia squeezed her necklace, feeling her feelings funny. Somehow, she knew what she was doing was not right. And somehow, Leia did not very much care.

"Database activated: information request?" Still worrying the little blue cube was being too loud, Leia beckoned it nearer, and it shifted its skinny legs, hobbling closer to her.

"Search _Padmè_." Leia whispered, and the droid complied with a click-whir, searching.

"Results: three-thousand seven hundred and twelve point four matching results for _Padmè_. Refine search?"

Leia scrunched her nose a little, "Search _Senator Padmè."_

"Searching . . . found, twenty point three direct matches for _Senator Padmè_. Document request?"

"Read the first one." Leia bit her lip, anxious. She only hoped Sir Erasmus would not return too soon -

At the tell-tale whoosh of the door opening, the little girl jumped and shoved the droid behind her . . . only to reveal her best friend Winter. Leia sighed in relief, seeing her daddies droid R2-D2 follow behind the girl.

Winter tucked silvery-white hair behind her ear, whispering in her sweet voice, "Sorry to disturb m'lady."

"You scared me!" Leia laughed a little as Winter sat ladylike beside her on the carpet, "Why is Artoo here?"

"I was just cleaning him, Princess. He followed me."

R2 twiddled at the mention of his name, spinning his silver dome in a circle and making the girls giggle. Leia did not hesitate to tell Winter about her plan; she was her best friend, after all, and her sister really. She was kind and honest and very polite, though she often helped Leia get into mischief one way or another. They did everything together.

Besides, Leia was brimming to tell _someone_. "Can you keep a secret?"

Winter nodded.

She whispered through Winter's thin silvery hair, "I'm looking for a picture."

Winter looked to her, "Of whom?"

Leia smiled, "Of a woman my daddy knew."

"Oh," Winter replied, "But why?"

"I need to find out something important . . . about this - "

Leia held up her necklace. Winter smiled then, "Didn't your mother say someone special had it?"

"I think this lady gave me my necklace. I think the other part is hers too."

Winter nodded, "You're asking Threebee?"

"Yep. Just hope Sir Erasmus doesn't return," Leia pulled the droid out from behind her, "Okay Threebee. Read."

3B-TB twirped, "Document 45-7, subsection B, of the public statement excerpted from the last will and testament of Senator Padmè Amidala. _Upon my passing, to my home world and birthplace Naboo, a portion of my savings are given in donation to the current serving Queen, the royal house, the national guard -_ "

"No no _no_ Threebee! I need to know _about_ her, not boring things." Leia huffed and folded her arms, hearing R2 whirr in question and roll closer to them.

"I don't understand you, Artoo."

"Artoo-Detoo asks if he may be of assistance?" 3B piped in translation.

"Do you know anything about Padmè? The Senator? Or this Artoo?" Leia held up her necklace again, and the droid emitted a rude noise.

Winter wrinkled her face, "What's wrong?"

"Artoo replies it is none of the princess' business."

Leia scowled at the droid. R2 often teased her and gave her a hard time, but daddy always said he had a mind of his own. She didn't think that was an excuse to be rude.

"Meanie! I just wanna know about - "

3B continued, "He says if the princess needed to know anything, she certainly should not examine the King's private study, but do not tell her Threebee . . . oh."

R2-D2 blurted a sound, and 3B realized his error . . . too late. Leia smiled, "Father's study! Brilliant - "

This time at the sound of the door Leia jumped, knowing it was Sir Erasmus. Leia felt her heart pound. "Quick!"

The Princess shoved 3B-TB underneath her nearby study desk, grabbed Oori and Winter's hand, and ran into the supply closet; she left just a slit to peek through as she carefully closed them in.

Heartbeats later, Sir Erasmus entered with a steaming cup of tea. He looked at his watch, and stumbled into R2 clumsily.

"Artoo-Detoo? What in the galaxy are you doing in here . . . where is the Princess? I have to be off planet in an hour," He suddenly looked at his watch again, bending over to look under Leia's desk. "Threebee!"

"Sir, sir, an explanation is in order - "

"You're kriffing well right! She hasn't escaped again, has she?"

Leia backed up a little, feeling Winter grab her hand. She didn't think he'd be _this_ mad. _Please don't look . . . _

". . . stay here you insolent space wasters." And the footsteps meant he was gone.

Leia sighed and pushed her way out again. That was too close. Winter sighed in relief, "Now what?"

"Come . . ." Leia tugged Winter, skipping quickly into the hallway. Leia knew they only had a few minutes before the whole palace would be looking for her, so she had to be fast. She ran toward the nearest flight of stairs, whispering to her friend as she lead her up.

"Listen, Winter, if we are swift we can return before Sir Erasmus knows I'm gone. We can't go where were going with anyone else. I need you to make sure you don't tell anyone else either."

Winter's face was distressed, "Princess, we cannot go to your Father's study! We _can't_!"

They both knew that the palace was theirs to roam freely, to visit the libraries and galleries, the tea rooms, but the few rooms unavailable seemed to Leia the most intriguing. Her Father's study was one of those rooms. It was a private room, located just off of the royal bedsuite, which was also off limits. Leia knew her daddy would be upset if they were caught. She did not often purposefully disobey him, but this one time would not hurt.

"Won't you come?" Leia pleaded, "You're my best friend, please?"

Winter bit her lip, eyes wandering, though she continued to run along, "What if we're . . . caught? Or in trouble?"

"Don't worry. No one will see. And there are lots of books too - I know you like books. We'll be in and out in a snap." Leia snapped her little fingers, taking Winter's hand again, "Now come on!"

They ran past many attendants preparing for her birthday celebration, carrying decorations and food, too busy to notice them.

Leia smiled to herself, seeing how many attendants overlooked them; her plan was working so far. They reached the top of the stairs, Winter seeming a bit less worried than before, onto the bedroom floor, Leia leading them to stand before the large ornately carved door of the royal bed suite.

"Are you sure about this?" Winter asked, looking to Leia desperately.

Leia huffed a sigh, knowing how much trouble she could manage by doing this. But she needed to know - she _had_ to know. Leia nodded and grabbed the handle and pulled the door open just big enough for them to squeeze through; she prodded Winter in first, following close behind.

The room was cool and cozy, smelling of her mothers perfume. There was a bed with a red canopy in the center, one Leia was very tempted to climb upon but she resisted the urge. Her attention was soon drawn to the open door across the room -

"Come this way!" Leia whispered excitedly, and Winter followed her through it.

The study was not huge, but was very beautiful. Shelves were tall and lined the walls, the air smelling of caf and cologne. Winter approached the bookshelves, and Leia knew she loved to read, "Look! All these books, Leia, they're incredible!"

Leia nodded, her attention drawn to a wooden desk in the centre of the study; _this is what I'm looking for!_ Leia quickly sat in the chair before it, opening the many drawers in search. Books, pencils, flimsiplast, letters, documents . . .

Leia wrinkled her brow, "No no no!" She whispered, "It _has_ to be here! Something has to!"

Furiously, she hit the top of the desk -

A compartment on the underside of the desk popped open, and Leia gasped to herself. Quickly hopping down, she crawled under and retrieved what was inside. _A . . . another book. _Leia turned the leather-bound book over in her hands, noticing it was a bit worn, and she opened it, recognizing instantly her fathers writing.

It was his journal.

"Ah. Look who we have here."

Leia fought not to cringe at the voice, knowing just who it was. She turned to see Sir Erasmus standing stiffly at the door, eyes dark and smouldering. Leia scowled at him.

"Winter." The man commanded, and Winter stuttered, "Yes sir?"

"Leave us."

Winter shot her eyes to Leia, but the princess nodded to her and she scampered out quickly; Leia knew this was her fault and not Winter's. She deserved the blame. Sir Erasmus found the door, which he closed quietly, his mouth in a gentle smile as he spoke. "I was searching endlessly for you, your Highness. What have I told you about sneaking off during our lessons?"

"You aren't allowed in here. My Father - "

"Your father stated clearly _you_ are not permitted in his study. The royal attendants are." Sir Erasmus strolled slowly nearer, "If you try to make a move, I will ensure you are reprimanded severely. You are the only one in danger of punishment, not I. Especially with possession of _that_."

Leia looked to the palm-sized book, and her breath quickened. She threatened, "How did you know about my father's book?"

"I've read it - cover to cover. I know exactly what is inside, word by word." Erasmus was only a few feet away, his voice softening, "I know everything. About you . . . and about your necklace."

Leia froze. Sir Erasmus knelt before her in the chair, taking the necklace in his fingers from its place on her neck. His eyes studied it, and he held it for a long time; Leia felt uncomfortable, her feelings teling her a strong darkness. She knew she should run away, but she couldn't.

"Your parents have been keeping secrets from you. They've been lying to you, Leia." Erasmus whispered as he stroked the necklace between his fingers, and Leia shook her head. That was the first time he had called her by her name. "I know the truth they have been hiding. I can give you the answers you're looking for. Would you like that?"

Leia nodded, though she knew she shouldn't.

"Good. I will not tell your father about your disobedience Princess, but you must agree to tell no one else about this. Do you understand?"

Erasmus caught her eyes, and Leia felt her own grow blurry. "But . . . but - "

"Do you understand me?" The man gripped her shoulders harshly, and Leia writhed from him in hurt -

The door flew open behind them, revealing Winter who tugged the hand of Leia's Father urgently; Bail's face was bewildered, and he asked incredulously, "What . . . is the meaning of this?"

Erasmus detached himself from the girl, smoothing down his uniform and adjusting his sleeve cuffs, "Upon discovering the Princess' absence in the private classroom, in my search I found her here in your study, my lord. I simply preceded to scold her behaviour, which is in all aspects wrong."

Father, giving no eye to the teacher, rushed to his distressed daughter and asked gently, "Is this true, my dear?"

Leia felt herself trembling. Sir Erasmus watched her with a sharp eye, but she looked to the dark confused gaze of her daddy. She couldn't lie to him . . . _They've been lying to you, Leia. _Leia felt an ache inside her, but she whispered very softly, "Yes, father."

Her daddy nodded, releasing his gentle grip from her shoulder and standing before her sternly, "I am disappointed in your behaviour today; being late for your mother's meeting, and now interrupting mine for this? To your room then, young lady. Ponder your actions. I'll speak to you tonight."

Father rushed away. Winter took to her instead, knowing she was hurt, and Leia grabbed her hand. Meeting eyes, they embraced each other. They strolled past Sir Erasmus without a word, out into the halls again. Winter was quiet, and Leia was glad; she knew she could not tell her her secret this time. She whispered to her, "You are my very best friend, Winter."

Winter smiled softly. They hugged each other again.

* * *

"Hello? Yes, this is Ben . . . at the station, yes. I figured . . . Owen - please, listen . . ."

Luke listened to Ben speaking with his uncle over the commlink. He could tell by the faces he made - the lines on his forehead and eyebrows that wrinkled - that Uncle Owen was being stubborn. Luke recalled his Aunt called listening to others talk _eavesdropping_, but he wasn't meaning to listen. He had to stay close to Ben at all times, as he told him too. It was good rule, because Luke found it tempting to explore his new surroundings.

The first thing he had noticed was the air, when Ben had stepped out of the cramped speeder and into the dark, cool night. Alderaan had a star-filled sky like back home, but was so cold Luke couldnt help but shiver a little. They had walked for a while through the streets of a small town before finding a comm. They were in the village of Rhie near the city district; Ben had pointed out to him the mountains in the distance, and the palace resting near them. It was beautiful - that had been when Luke decided he loved Alderaan. His feelings felt strange and warm, feelings he remembered but couldn't explain, and he held his necklace tightly.

Luke stepped insise the plastisteel comlink booth then, tracing pictures with his finger on the hazy surface from the cold outside.

"We aren't in any position to - I understand, but - you _can't_ expect us to walk thirty kilometers, especially not at this time! Luke is exhausted . . ."

Luke felt Ben stroke his blonde hair gently again; the boy figured it comforted Ben like Luke's necklace did for him, knowing that he was close beside. Even though Luke barely knew the man, he felt very, very safe with him. He drew a face, with a beard like Ben's, though he still concentrated on overhearing.

"Well, we must discuss this later. Now, if you simply call a taxi and - " Ben breathed out through his nose once, continuing under his breath, "As I have explained, I have brought with me no money . . . If you have no current concern of your nephews well being, then we will find lodging elsewhere. Goodnight."

Luke looked to Obi-Wan curiously, "Mr. Ben, are Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen coming?"

"No Luke," Ben looked away, into the distance, "They are too far away right now. We will have to take a speeder tomorrow to see them. But I have one credchip left."

"Who are you gonna call?" Luke asked, watching Ben look to the palace in the near distance. His voice was a deep whisper.

"I am going to call the Queen."

* * *

"Well, I have already decided - the Nubian box takes vote for the treaty. Those in favor please speak now." Leia sat on her bed in the middle of her assortment of dolls and stuffed toys and creatures, playing Senate. It was her favorite game.

Oori was the empress, and she her adviser; the others were different systems like Alderaan, Naboo, Coruscant and any of the others she could remember. Leia knew she was actually supposed to be sleeping, but she also knew her mother and father could not hear, and Rena was all the way across the hall. Besides, it was only ten- thirty.

"The Kashyyk system wishes to speak now!"

Leia grabbed the biggest Wookiee doll? "_Roar, chuff chuff chuff!_ I will translate: the Kashyyk system is also voting in favor of the treaty - "

"No! No!" Her three dollies shouted, "Boycott! Boycott!"

Oori spoke next, "Boycott? We can't boycott now, we've discussed this for years - "

"Well then, eat me!" The dolly lunged at Oori and the other Senate members shrieked as they wrestled about, and Leia giggled.

"Oori! Be nice! Now, another word from Kashyyk . . ."

Leia held the flashlight in her lap, shining it upon the toy Wokiee family her mother had knitted for her - she received a new one each year for her birthday. She would be receiving one soon, hopefully.

Leia wasn't all too excited about her birthday celebration, which was only in one more sleep after that night, or the funeral service either. She still felt guilty about sneaking into her fathers things, and lying to him - and even more curious and confused about Sir Erasmus and his promise with her. She could not sleep, for her mind kept wondering. She had yet to read the journal; she'd hidden it safely under her pillow after bringing to her room; she hadn't told Winter, because she didn't want her friend to worry.

Leia shifted on her bed, looking sideways at her pillow. Her stomach felt funny, and she winced. Maybe she should just put it back. But she had already said it herself. She needed to know.

With a fluttering heart, Leia reached and grabbed the journal gently, clearing he toys away for room. She opened the rough cover carefully. A few small papers fell into her lap. No, not papers. Photographs. One was of her father as a young prince. One was of his mother, Leia's grandmother. One was a wedding photo of her parents. One was of her sleeping in her daddy's arms.

But one was of a young woman with dark hair. She wore a long dress with a hood that covered some of her face. Behind her stood a young man with blonde hair and one long braid. He looked like he was protecting her.

Leia knew the woman was Padmè, but not the other person. She took the photo out from the rest, tucking it under her pillow again.

Leia began to flip through the pages, seeing dates but not recognizing them - she was only still learning about that in her studies. Instead, she searched for a name. Her young eyes were quick and sharp, and after flipping for a moment swiftly found it.

Leia held up the flashlight and read, "_The debate has begun today and fortunately I did not have to go alone. Newly elected Senator Padmè Amidala of Naboo will be my companion. She was the queen, not too long ago. I wonder if my wife and her would get along! She is very kind like Breha, and direct. Yes, very stern. There is a sadness I see - "_

A sound made her jump, and Leia lost her page. She looked quickly and found the name again in the book, "_Twenty-third, year nineteen. I would not have seen her to be so weak in the end. No, not her. Poor Master Kenobi."_

"Master . . . Kenobi?" Leia pondered the name, surely recalling it mentioned before by her parents. In whispers, maybe. She continued.

_"He appeared to be the loneliest man in the galaxy that day. I wanted to console but had not a word of comfort. Padmè was his dear friend. What would I say suit? I kept my distance, until it came to depart. A simple word and a gift to our newborn daughter: the necklace -"_

"My dream." Leia gasped, hearing a noise from the downstairs lobby of the palace; through her window she saw the shine of lights and heard the rumble of a speeder.

Quickly, she hopped off of her bed to her windowsill, seeing the royal escort car pull to a stop at the entrance. Her heart raced in curious wonder. Who was here at this time? Leia felt the funny feelings then, and stroked her necklace. They felt funnier than usual.

Unable to resist, Leia hopped down, slipped on her slippers, her pink silk overcoat and grabbed Oori, padding quickly downstairs whilst avoiding the few palace attendants that roamed quietly and whispered to slow down or go to bed. Reaching the foyer, Leia sat near the top of the staricase leading tothe main floor, peeking between the spindles and around the chandelier that obscured her view.

The royal doormen opened the doors, chatting to each other idly like they did. The Princess listened carefully, knowing the doormen may know who it was. It was hard to hear, but Leia concentrated hard,

". . . from off planet. Said he knew Her Royal Highness Queen Breha personally."

"And they were serious? How many of these prank calls do we deal with?"

"Apparently, he was telling the truth."

"You believe him?"

"Well, we'll determine if it's the truth in just a sec - here he is."

Leia scooted down a few steps to see better as they opened the doors wide. She expected to see a nicely dressed man, and was speechless at who strolled in. A man in a brown tunic with auburn hair and a beard. Leia thought she recognized him, but what most caught her eye was the bundle he carried, wrapped snuggly in a brown garment.

"State your name, sir." The doorman asked testily.

The man replied, his accent Couruscanti Leia could tell, "Ben Kenobi."

Leia remembered the name, and her eyes widened, straining to see the face. _But it had been Master Kenobi, not Ben_. Could it be the same man?

"And your . . . child?"

"Luke."

Leia's eyes unknowingly brightened at the name, and she whispered it again to herself, "Luke - "

"Princess! A voice hissed, and Leia looked up to see her nursemaid Rena; the woman grabbed her arm, "It is well past your due!"

Leia looked down to the lobby floor again, the people there noticing the commotion. The man, Ben, smiled to her. Leia waved as Rena pulled her away, lecturing. "Curfew is set for a purpose. It is not to be squandered, princess. You must receive adequate rest . . ."

"Yes, Rena. May I go to bed now?"

Rena nudged her gently toward her bedroom,"You get to sleep."

Leia nodded, entering her room and flopping back onto her bed with a smile. Suddenly, unlike before, she was excited for tomorrow.

* * *

Lieutenant Fidel wrenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. He hated that he was being idle, waiting around when action could be taking place. The only had a small frame of days to accomplish things while they were just right.

He stared down at the dark navy orb of Alderaan from the privacy of his quarters, sipping a hot cup of tea. He cleared his throat, continuing to speak to the voice on the other end of the holo, "Of course, I don't expect you to be hiding beneath their bed Tarkin. I'm only asking if you've located them yet."

The hologram form of Grand Moff Tarkin tensed in annoyance, "Do not get smug, lieutenant. You know I have to stay discreet, or I will blow the entire operation - "

"The operation will be for naught if you don't find Lord Vader his necklace, and soon." Fidel wagged a reprimanding finger, "And you should be ashamed of yourself, not even roughly assuming whereabouts. Tsk tsk."

"Mocking me is childish. At least I have a task, not stuck sipping high tea with the recruits."

Lieutenant Fidel rolled his eyes, "Please. Don't even start."

"Has anyone made contact about the royal house yet? I heard they have a lead."

"Indeed, they have and they do. Our inside man had reported affirmative." Fidel couldn't hide his smile, "Erasmus was certainly pleased with himself. Pleased indeed."

Tarkin turned away for a moment, looking back with a salute, "I best be going, my speeder is here. Good day, lieutenant."

Fidel gave a nod, switching off the transmission and taking another satisfying sip of tea. He sighed; yes, he was tired of being idle. But things were looking up. _I will find that necklace. _

_We will indeed._

* * *

**Thanks for reading - please review too! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hello lovely readers! Yep, the update was late but now I have a beta and ill hopefully stay on top of things! I love all my awesome reviewers sooo much and thanks for sticking with me on this story! Now I won't hold you up, so enjoy! :D Please review too!**_

* * *

_It was not a thing without secrets. It seemed that the tiny wooden pendant was often tucked away inside a jewelry box or gently beneath a collar, hidden. It had no retail value, no outstanding uniqueness, yet the necklace was always hidden from sight by those who possessed it._

_Only few had known of its true meaning. Not the Master of the young carver, not his mother nor his friends. Only the carver, the keeper, and two or three others. Such a scandal it was that such a risk could not be taken. Banishment, punishment, shame, humiliation, all for a simple love. _

_Some thought that if it had been told, their fate may have been different, but no one could know. The little necklace that meant so much had been kept so secret that it had stayed that way. _

_Though secrets always have minds of their own. And with the knowledge of the necklace's existence fresh in the mind of the carver, it was irresistible to let it go. The carver knew that it had not been buried with the keeper. He knew only a few other souls who could have it. _

_Sworn to secrecy and faithful until the end, only a select few of his love's closest advisors, her most trusted of handmaidens, had known of the necklace. _

_And any of those still living still knew. _

* * *

Luke awoke to light. Not bright light like on Tatooine, but a soft light. He was laid beneath soft blankets, wrapped in Ben's robe. He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but he felt safe and could feel Ben was near.

Luke sat up and yawned. He rubbed his eyes, looking about the bedroom. It wasn't small but was cozy, the walls a rich ivory; sitting furniture was placed before a fireplace to the left, and the bed he was on sat in the middle. The boy looked to his right, seeing a man sitting at a vanity, buckling long tan boots. The person was dressed in a high collared blue jacket with brass buttons and cuffs, hair neatly combed face clean-shaven.

When the man glanced up, Luke realized it was Ben. He looks so different! He gasped softly, but giggled at the new sight.

Ben wrinkled his brow, "Good morning, sleepy one. What's so funny?"

Luke smiled, "You look pretty, Mr. Ben. Without a beard."

Ben smiled back, standing to inspect himself in the mirror. "I figured I needed a shave. I must be sure I don't look too recognizable."

"Retin . . . isable?" Luke tried, not knowing what the long word meant.

"Recognizable. So that others cannot tell who I am."

"Are you hiding from the Empire?" Luke asked concernedly. "Are they looking for us?"

Ben turned to him, a soft smile on his face as he sat on the bed beside him. "Don't fret, young one, we are safe. The king and queen will ensure we are not harmed. The Empire has little influence here."

Ben smiled to him, stroking Luke's hair, and the boy grabbed the hand and held it tightly as he smiled back. He felt so safe with the man. He felt so happy.

Ben grinned, "Did you take a look at the scenery young one? It's much different from Tatooine."

Luke shook his head. The bed they sat on had sheer curtains around, and at the foot across the room was an open balcony where a chilly breeze blew inside. Alderaan, the boy remembered, seeing outside foggy clouds and forest, and he giggled and pulled Ben's robe around his shoulders and scampered out as fast as his feet could take him.

"Slow down, little one." Ben chuckled, following him to stand and look out. Luke pulled himself up on tiptoe, but he couldn't see past the duracrete ledge. He hopped, but still was too short.

"Help please." He said, looking up to Ben, and the man propped him on his hip. Luke felt himself smiling as he took in the chill and haze of the morning, the single sun and jagged juts of mountaintops. It was prettier than any day at home.

"My birthday is tomorrow." Luke said, "I'll be six."

"Six already? I thought you would be three - "

"Ben!" Luke cried, "I'm not a baby!"

"No, you aren't." Ben looked out into the sunrise again, and Luke waited in the silence for him to speak, "While we are here from now on, I think it best if we pretend I am your father, Luke, and you are my son."

Luke nodded. He did not know his real father, only about him. He thought he would be like Ben probably, kind and tall and loving.

"Do you have children, Mr. Ben?"

"I do now, don't I?"

"You're funny." Luke said, tilting his head with a smirk. "Mr. Ben?"

Ben tweaked his nose, "I'm your father, remember?"

"Oh, um . . . Papa?"

"Yes, Luke."

"The Empire man . . . was looking for my family. He said he was important business from the Empire." Luke tried hard to remember, "He held me tightly when I tried to escape, and then . . ."

"What young one?" Ben asked, trying to meet his eyes. Luke felt ashamed, but he whispered quietly, "I . . . pushed him."

"That's alright, Luke. You were protecting yourself. He should not have -"

"Mr. . . . Papa." Luke waited until the man was silent again. He repeated, "I pushed him, but I didn't touch him though."

Ben's eyebrows grew close together, and he was quiet. Luke learned quickly that quiet meant he was thinking. The man asked gently, "Have you ever done that before? Moved something without touching?"

Luke nodded, thinking of many times where he had lifted small screws from crevasses even his little hands couldn't fit in, or playing with sand and spinning it into tiny tornadoes.

Ben nodded back, "That's alright, Luke. Just be sure that you do not tell anyone else -"

A knock was heard on the door, interrupting them. Ben sighed and called into the room, "Come in."

The door opened a little and a nursemaid peeked inside, "Her Royal Highness is to see you now sir, in the throne room. She requests you bring the boy also."

"Thank you, ma'am. We'll be right there." Ben sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, "Well Luke, let's get you dressed too -"

"Who are we to see Papa?"

"The Queen of Alderaan. She is the one who is allowing us to stay here."

"Oh." Luke reached in his pocket and squeezed his necklace, and Ben set him down to retrieve his clothes. Luke felt his feelings strongly, as he had felt them all night. He wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

He wanted to tell Ben, but was too afraid.

* * *

They were ushered quickly into the hall before the throne room, though Obi-Wan was concerned about Luke, who clutched his finger tightly and fidgeted at his side. The boy was slightly cultured and then fitted in proper Alderaanian garb, but it was the Skywalker unruliness in him that the Master was unsure of.

The similarities of the boy and his late apprentice brought a heaviness to the Jedi's heart, one he did not let sadden him though. The eager blue eyes ever wavering and watching curiously and the sandy hair that obscured them. The boy's questions and observations. The subtle childish lisp from the small teeth, and the crooked smirk that would appear there. That, Obi-Wan found the hardest to ignore.

Luke was indeed a Skywalker, and Skywalker's always meant trouble. The last thing Obi-Wan wanted to do was offend the royals. _Now that would be unfortunate . . ._

Obi-Wan knelt to Luke's level, fixing the already askew collar of his little uniform as he spoke, "Now you must behave before the king and queen, young one. Stay close to me and answer any questions politely -"

"Uncle Owen told me you're a hermit. He said you were a miser and a sneak."

Obi-Wan caught the boys blue eyes, "Is that all?"

"He said you're once an general in the war and you 'spect everyone to follow your orders." Luke gave him a curious look, "Were you, Papa?"

"We will have to talk about this later," Obi-Wan squeezed the shoulders gently, hearing the guards call them, "Come now."

Luke took his hand again, and the tall doors opened slowly as they strolled inside, the guards announcing their names. The Throne Room was vast and elegant, tapestries of Alderaanian landscapes hung between the large windows. Two chairs sat on a platform at the rear of the grand room, and below them stood the king and queen.

Upon their approach, Obi-Wan bowed low, Luke following suit. "Your Highnesses. I apologize for our sudden arrival and ask your forgiveness; we do not intend to overstay our welcome and will depart as soon as - "

"Master Kenobi!" The Queen exclaimed, "Enough of such talk; as I said some years past you are always welcome in our home. In fact, I find it quite rude you haven't given us a visit yet."

Obi-Wan looked up only to be embraced heartily by her, this time less surprised than the last. He looked to Bail from over her shoulder and shook his hand, exasperated.

"Master, I can't seem to remember you without your beard."

"Me either." Obi-Wan laughed with him, "At least the disguise works.

"I'm sorry it's needed." Breha said softly, but Obi-Wan shook his head. "Now who do we have here?"

"My son." Obi-Wan was sure to catch the King and Queen's eye, and they seemed to pick up the hint. "Luke S - . . . Kenobi."

Obi-Wan looked to see Luke clutching his pant leg bashfully. "Come forward, little one."

Luke complied, bowing again and looking to Breha with big blue eyes, "Hello, your highness. You are very pretty."

Breha placed a hand on her heart and gasped, "My goodness! A little gentleman, isn't he?"

"Luke." Obi-Wan said in reprimand, but Bail chuckled and said to the boy, "Flirting does have its benefits little one, but that's my wife. You'll have to -"

"Oh pish posh Bail, he is only a child."

Bail rolled his eyes at his grinning wife with a sigh, "Yes, I know. What brings you to Alderaan, Master Kenobi?"

"A very, very long story, but in short the funerals."

Breha wrinkled her brow curiously, "Relatives?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, not sure how exactly he was to explain. The Queen spotted his reluctance and waved the question off, "We will speak over breakfast. My little prince here can meet - "

"My queen," Obi-Wan interrupted quickly, reminded suddenly of the Princess.

Bail looked to him funny. Breha had created a frown of confusion. Obi-Wan chuckled, his face probably burning; his subtlety skills were getting rusty already. _They cannot possibly think it an idea to introduce the siblings to one another!_

They had been separated for a reason. At only five Luke was already Force aware, and Obi-Wan expected Leia was not far behind. He certainly had not brought the boy along for that reason. Reuniting could not only allow other Force sensitives insight to their presence and location, but endanger them greatly at the hands of . . . Obi-Wan felt a cringe at the thought. Vader.

_But they don't know that, _Obi-Wan realized, seeing the royals still eyeing him funny, _curses Kenobi, act natural._

He finished, calming his tone, "I'm not sure if that can be arranged."

Breha caught his distressed eyes before looking to her husband with confusion. "I'm sure the princess is not busy - "

"What I mean is that . . . I have concerns, your highnesses, that I have recently surmised about the position of your daughter and my son."

"Concerns?" Bail inclined testily. "Of what form?"

"Of safety, your highness, and of secrecy especially." Obi-Wan ensured his tone was grave.

Bail finally seemed to take the bait, "In order for you to speak more freely on this, I request we go to breakfast."

"I will ensure the princess eats at a different time." Breha smiled reassuringly, outstretching her hand to Luke, who took it happily and followed the woman out of the throne room. "She is just your age, little one . . ."

Obi-Wan was not so eager about leaving Luke; he called after them, "Your Highness, I don't think - "

"Pish posh Obi-Wan, he is only a child." Bail said teasingly, and Obi-Wan couldn't hide his smile. He sighed, a feeling of safe remembrance of times past, of the Republic and the Senate and of being a Jedi.

"I've seemed to forgotten how much I've missed this all." Obi-Wan mused aloud, "And it seems like it shall not last."

"Nothing ever seems to." The king replied, becoming silent as he beckoned the retrospective Jedi to follow him into the dining room. Obi-Wan was still ill at ease, but then for their sake he ignored it.

* * *

"But Rena!" Leia said the name in a long high whine as she was plopped back onto her bed.

Rena set her face, turning up her nose indignantly, "Princess, this is your parents bidding, not mine. You are to eat your morning meal in your chambers, and that is final."

"But I want to see the guests! Luke and Mr. Kenobi!"

"I cannot allow that - "

"But Rena, it's not fair! I has to tell my mother something!"

"You have to, and it can wait. Now eat your cereal and drink your milk; I'll be back to check on you when you are finished." Rena sat the breakfast tray on the bed before her, smiling happily as she left the room and locked the door.

Leia hugged Oori in her arms and let out a loud "_hmph_!". If she wasn't turning six tomorrow she would have thrown her cereal across the room and poured her milk out her window onto one of the guards heads.

She had been so excited to meet the little boy Luke last night that she had barely slept. Leia never ever had other children in the palace to play with. She imagined she could show him around the rooms and they could make a dessert together in the kitchen and play in the tea gardens. But she was not allowed to leave her room?

"It's not _fair_!" Leia shouted to no one, clenching her jaw, "They invited guests and they're just not letting me see them to make me mad. They _don't_ like me! Sir Erasmus was right!"

Leia whipped a throw pillow across the room, "Stupid stupid _stupid_ nursemaids!"

The small pillow hit her closet door ajar. Leia, suddenly, got an idea. She slipped away from her breakfast quickly and opened her closet. Though her hair was still loose and she wore her nightgown, she wasn't looking for clothes. If there was one thing Leia knew it was that Organa's did not give up without a fight, so her daddy said. She would not either.

Leia set Oori down and pulled her little play chair over inside her closet. She said to her stuffed banta proudly, "Watch how high a princess can jump!"

Bravely, the girl hopped up carefully and tugged off a wire hanger from her rack of dresses. She landed in the bottom of the closet, feet hitting hard on a pair off her shoes, and she winced but struggled up.

"Did it!" Leia announced happily, taking a seat beside Oori to begin her handiwork. The wire hanger was thin, and her little fingers untwisted the hook quickly until it was a stick. "Perfect."

Leia skittered over to her door, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she wiggled it carefully into the keyhole. She had done this before, once when she had been playing robbers with Winter. The Princess hadn't told her parents, just in case something happened like the situation she was in.

"Almost . . ." Leia squinted, feeling the lock loosen as she wiggled the wire -

The door burst open. Leia stumbled back onto her bottom, startled. She didn't open it.

The form was tall, and the voice familiar, "Princess . . . what do you think you're doing?"

Leia stuttered, rising to her feet and hiding the hanger behind her back, "Good morning, Sir Erasmus."

Sir Erasmus gave a nod, stepping in and closing the door behind himself. He looked at his watch before looking up at Leia with an odd smile. He looked tired, like he barely slept. Leia could tell he was acting funny.

"I just came to inform Rena of a change in your study plans today," Erasmus whispered, "I have a different lesson to teach you."

Leia backed up onto her bed and quickly shoved the hanger beneath her pillow. She asked, "A lesson about my necklace?"

The man nodded, his eyes traveling to the necklace resting exposed above her nightgowns collar; like usual, he touched it gently, and like usual Leia pulled away.

Sir Erasmus smiled though, a smile that Leia did not like, and folded his hands before himself, "Let's begin."

* * *

"How much do you know about the attack?" Obi-Wan asked, watching both king and queen shrug a little.

The nursemaids stood about them in the small dining room, refilling glasses and clearing plates around the table. They had been served sweetbread, fruit and an Alderaanian spice tea, which Breha sipped and Bail swallowed. The morning was still early, though a warm shower had started outside and pattered rain against the windows.

Luke stood before one of them, as he had been doing for a good while, watching the rain; it was his first time seeing it, and Obi-Wan had allowed him. The boy chewed on a roll of sweetbread, the only food he seemed to want to eat, as he stared wondrously around.

Obi-Wan's attention, however, was fixed on the king and queen, and he had barely eaten. His elbows were braced behind his plate and he seemed to have forgotten he was even holding a fork, the topic of the conversation taking his whole attention.

Bail, who sat at the head, his wife and the Jedi on either of his sides, chewed his food slowly in thought. "Unfortunately, not even the authorities are sure of the attacker, though rumoursof Lord Vader initiating it have been circling lately."

"All we have been told was that a bomb was planted in a rural living area, destroying a few houses and business and a confirmed fifteen casualties. It was random and unorganized like a civilian revolt, and no incentive was discovered."

"So, an unknown attacker with unknown reason?" Obi-Wan summed up, receiving nods of agreement, "Any survivors?"

"Just one. Rabè Sifora." Breha said softly, sipping her tea, "She is under medical attention for her injuries - "

"Pardon me, my queen, but Rabè as in . . . the handmaiden to Senator Amidala?"

Breha nodded, concerned by the Jedi's sudden urgency, "Is there a problem, Master Kenobi?"

". . . I'm not sure." Obi-Wan whispered, trying to hide his shock. That bad feeling in him felt worse than before, and he glanced absentmindedly at Luke still gazing owlishly at the storm.

His priority while on this unplanned excursion, ever since finding Luke on Tatooine, was to protect the boy. He had wondered why the Force had given him such a funny feeling that day past, and as this information about the attack was trickling in, he began putting two and two together.

"Is Miss Sifora protected?" Obi-Wan asked hopefully, "Is she safe?"

"Not under royal security, but I am sure she is not in any danger."

Obi-Wan fought back a curse, wanting to leave his seat. His eyes went to Luke's again, and the feeling in him pulsed in warning. Something was not right. Not at all.

"Master," Bail asked, noticing the concern with his own, "Is there something wrong?"

"Not yet." Obi-Wan said softly, looking into the senators dark eyes, "I need to speak with Ms. Sifora as soon as possible. I fear her life as well as your daughters and Luke's are in danger."

"Is this what you were concerned about Master?" Breha lowered her voice, and her husband waved the nursemaids away with his hand. "The ties with the attack to the Senator?"

The Jedi Master nodded slowly, setting his hovering fork down and folding his hands, "That, and this whole situation. We must look at the bigger picture: an attack possibly lead by Vader which so happened to involve one of Senator Amidala's former handmaidens. It is far too suspicious."

"You are suggesting the attack was not a protest, but a plot to kill Miss Sifora." Bail stated.

"Possibly. All I know is that Luke and I being on Alderaan so soon after this attack is not a coincidence."

Obi-Wan sat back in his chair, folding his arms pensively, and sighed. His plate was still crowded with food, and he felt his stomach wrench at the sight.

"I apologize for my appetite - "

"Master, no need. With what you have on your shoulders I blame you none." Breha smiled encouragingly, "I'll be sure you come with Bail and I to speak with Miss Sifora today."

The queen looked to her husband, and Bail nodded, though like Obi-Wan he still seemed uneasy. "We will make an outing of it. Everything will be fine - "

A lightning strike flashed ivory just as the power flickered to darkness, accompanied by a great boom of thunder and a high-pitched scream. Obi-Wan moved reflexively, standing and pulling out his lightsaber, though he waited for a threat before he unsheathed the blade. Bail stood so quickly his chair tumbled backwards, and his wife gasped and covered her mouth and chest.

All three stared at one another for a moment in the silent rain before Bail whispered, "It must have been a circuit breaker, Master. We're fine."

Obi-Wan, still flush with adrenaline, heard a whimpering and rushed to Luke, who had fallen in fright and was crying softly. The man took him into his arms and soothed him, "Hush, little one, it's alright . . ."

The boy buried his face in the Jedi's neck and held sighed, and the gesture seemed to relieve the others. Nursemaids and the attending guards had hurried into the room at the commotion, but Obi-Wan repeated to them, "Everything's alright."

Bail nodded, speaking to the guards, "Send for my ship in the docking bay. We will depart to the Medical Centre immediately to speak with Miss Sifora and put this misunderstanding behind us."

Obi-Wan felt his heart rate finally slow, rubbing Luke's back until he hushed to hiccups. He was far too uneasy already, and that meant nothing good.

"Your Highnesses?"

The king and queen both nodded.

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Bail chuckled and patted the Jedi on his shoulder, "Why am I not surprised?"

* * *

"If Erasmus has found it, why won't he bring it to me?" The voice of Lord Vader hissed, low and very impatient, "This insolent excuse of an officer is wasting my time."

"My lord, we do our best on your behalf. We understand it is difficult to wait knowing we have located it, but we mustn't become hasty." Lieutenant Fidel reasoned gently. "I can assure you, what you desire will be yours."

The two spoke discretely in the crowded hallways of the Star-Destroyer Vengeance, which was bustling in preparation for their mission on Alderaan. Pilots rushed to the docking bays and officers to the control rooms and command modules, the energy level a high that had obviously disturbed Lord Vader and gave him a mood.

Fidel watched the tall dark form standing before him lose tension gradually at his words, and he himself sighed silently in relief. He had managed to placate Vader, which was a feat in itself, and now only needed to buy more time. They were so close to finding the necklace; Fidel could taste his ranking of second in command sweetly on his tongue. How he longed to finally be in the place he was intended, to spit upon Tarkin and the other puny officers! The thought had pushed him on during this tasking mission, and Fidel knew he would be glad when it was through.

Lord Vader looked about for a moment, obviously still uneasy, "I told you not to come back empty handed, Fidel."

"Understood, my lord, and in technicalities I am not. Your item is, or so reported, in the hands of Erasmus now. We are only awaiting Tarkin for his half of the deal."

"Has Tarkin not made contact with the Lars'?"

Fidel hesitated, knowing the question had to be addressed, "Sir, em, he has, but . . . their child is not with them. He seemed to have evaded them on the docking port of the Tatooinian transit speeder. Tarkin has the couple in custody, but they both say they are unaware of the boys location."

"They are _liars_! Tell someone to interrogate them until they speak. They know exactly where their boy is!" Vader barked angrily, and Fidel raised his palms in a calming gesture, forcing a smile.

"Indeed, my lord, it will be done."

"Good." The figure nodded, his accompanying stormtroopers edging him to move on to other business of their busy schedule, and he began away.

Fidel cursed, following at his heels. "My lord! I need you to confirm what we are to do with Rabè Sifora. Shall we interrogate her further, or terminate?"

Vader did not look back, "It is up to you, lieutenant. She is of no longer of any use to me."

"Yes'ir."

"And lieutenant?"

Fidel jogged alongside the fast-striding figure, looking into the dark bulbous face masked eye and feeling a chill. He forced an unsteady nod.

"What I desire is mine, and I simply want it back. No one else deserves it but me. Remember that."

"Yes, my lord."

Fidel slowed his pace, watching the man - was he even still a man? - leave him amongst the bustling bodies. No one knew exactly why this primitive piece of jewelry was so kriffingimportant, not even him. It was irritating beyond compare and a rather stupid mission to be wasting time on, but if it was what it took to gain him the power he desired, he was willing to suffer through.

Fidel grasped his hands together, his sharp mind calculating what he was to do next. He had to debrief the pilots, contact Tarkin and head back to Alderaan to deal with Ms. Sifora in the next five hours. It was barely noon.

"On and on . . ." Lieutenant Fidel mumbled dryly, straightening his cap and strolling away down the halls again.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading! Please review too! :D_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hey lovely readers! It's been soooo long since an update and I know you've been waiting! Thank you for sticking with me! **_

_**So this chapter is lengthy but you deserve it, and I made sure it was super good too! You'll be excited to see what happens! *hint hint* ;) Thanks for the accountability FireShifter :) And love love love to my lovely beta! Kisses! :* Please review and ill be sure to update soon! Thanks again my lovelys! ~ Ellisaed :D **_

* * *

_"Anakin, it is just a formality." _

_"If it's just a formality, why can't we formally dismiss it?"_

_"It is custom for the former queen to be holographed, and expected for the senator to."_

_"Well I'm not a senator or a queen, so I don't understand why I should have to participate -"_

_"Hold still, Ani."_

_Anakin fidgeted noticeably as Padmè adjusted the scarf tucked into the breast of his olive coloured tunic, the two of them standing aside the backdrop prepared for the photographer. The palace was quiet and the morning was new, sunlight filtering through stained glass around them; they too were quiet and still, though the Jedi Padawan seemed more restless than his calm companion. _

_Padmè smoothed out his hair one last time and sighed, "There. All done."_

_"You're no fun!" Anakin ruffled his hair again, and she swatted him back playfully and smoothed the unruly hair again. _

_Anakin stilled her hand from fixing him anymore, "I think it's straight enough."_

_Padmè sighed, her dark eyes bright with concern, "I just want this to be nice."_

_"Oh I see . . . I'm not just your Jedi Protector anymore." Anakin whispered, "This is our wedding holo then -"_

_"Anakin, no. No one else knows."_

_The Jedi gave her a sidelong glance. Padmè tried to avoid the blue eyes she had honestly grown to adore, but could not. She caught them and whispered back, "I want to remember this day, Ani. Even if its shrouded with secrets and lies -"_

_"This is not a lie, Padmè."_

_"Well it soon will be. What will you tell your Master upon your return? That you just went frolicking in the fields for a few days before returning?"_

_Anakin set his jaw, but was silent. Padmè loved that about him, knowing when to speak and when not to. She touched his cheek tenderly. _

_"I want this to be something I can cherish and look back upon even though it is forbidden."_

_The Jedi nodded. His wife smiled in suit, pleased. She loved the fact that he was now her husband, and she his wife. Bound forever, despite the rules of the Jedi, the restrictions of her vocation, the scandalous nature of their relationship. Nothing mattered anymore but their love. _

_"I wanted you to wear this . . . " Anakin's smile returned as his raised Padme's japor snippet and tied it around her fair neck, "Because I made this for you . . . _

_The holographer emerged and approached them then, and the young Jedi leaned close to her and whispered, ". . . so you wouldn't forget me . . ."_

_"How could I forget my future husband?" Padmè replied, giggling in protest as he kissed her neck, "Ani stop! He's here! Anakin!"_

_Anakin pouted playfully and retreated with a quick kiss, and she gave him another nudge as he tickled her side. The holographer gestured them before his set up, and with utmost composure they stood before him. Padme sat upon the stool there and Anakin stood behind her just as the man directed. They stole a glancing smile as he snapped their holograph. _

* * *

In his peripheral, Obi-Wan watched Queen Breha talking quietly with Luke as they sat together on the landing platform of the Tantive IV. The boy's head was turned curiously as he listened to the queen, and she suddenly reached over and tickled him. Luke squirmed with a giggle in response.

The sight eased the still present knot in Obi-Wan's stomach, if for a moment. It was hard to ignore how things were unraveling very fast.

"Anything?" Bail asked from Obi-Wan's side, but the Jedi shook his head.

"No answer." He hung up the comlink, staring at it as he thought deeply, "I swear the number is the same. I spoke with them just last night, but the clerk said that no Lars' ever checked into the lodging at all."

The king pursed his lips, "You believe otherwise?"

"I know otherwise. The funerals are not until tomorrow, so they had no reason to go far, especially without Luke."

Obi-Wan stroked his chin, sighing at the feel of his clean-shaven face. He had sported his beard for so long, and without it made him feel like a Padawan again. Even more so with the little Skywalker by his side.

His eyes found Luke again plaintively, second guessing their whole situation all at once. Obi-Wan knew he should not be around the boy in the first place, risking other Force-sensitives to detect them or the child to become attached to him. But the word "papa" had grown to warm his heart, and he'd smile whenever the boy would call him eagerly. Maybe it was because he was happy the boy had a father, or maybe because he finally was one. A dangerous path they tread, that he knew well, and even more so with the danger staring them in the face.

Obi-Wan needed no evidence to know the Lars' had been kidnapped. He knew it was probably by imperial forces and he knew they were most likely looking for Luke. Obi-Wan kept it quiet, knowing that once they found Rabè, all would be well and he would protect the boy. He did not let himself imagine what would happen if not.

"So what are you supposing?" Bail inquired, bidding a few clingy guards, still nervous from the incident, away from him. "That there is someone behind this?"

Obi-Wan decided not to tell the king all he knew, and replied, "Unfortunately yes, and they are on the move; that means we must be as well."

"I'll power up the ship," Bail said quickly, moving swiftly into the cruiser past Breha and Luke. The queen seemed distressed at his urgency, looking to Obi-Wan with concern, but the Jedi did not want to startle Luke and put a finger to his lips. He flicked his head toward the ship, and the queen nodded, quietly slipping into it.

Luke did not pick up on any of the distress, however, smiling widely as Obi-Wan scooped him into his arms, "Papa, Papa, Mrs. Breha told me a stories!"

"Did she now?"

"Stories are funny, Papa." Luke giggled, looking into the Jedi's eyes.

Footsteps were heard behind them, and a nursemaid made her way onto the dock; she met Obi-Wan's eyes and held back a moment, waiting. Luke sensed the situation then when he saw the woman, and two little hands met the Jedi's face and the boy whispered plaintively, "You are leaving?"

"For a little while. But soon I will be back. Then we can have supper together."

This news did not excite the boy, dipping his head and hiding his eyes. Obi-Wan raised the lowered chin with his index finger, "How about tonight I will tell you about being a general in the war just like I promised?"

Luke raised his head with bright eyes, and Obi-Wan smiled at him involuntarily.

"Really?" he squealed happily, and Obi-Wan nodded and laughed.

"I'll tell you about defeating droid armies, commanding troopers, flying my starship -"

The Master turned the boy onto his belly in his arms and took off running, Luke shrieking with delight as he made the noise of an engine and spun about in circles around the platform.

"Faster! Papa, faster!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

He put a little Force behind his step, and they did go a bit faster, until Obi-Wan slowed to sluggish circles. I'm getting too old for this . . .

"All done…" he panted, huffing along with the boy.

"Papa?" Luke asked quietly, once he was upright again, "Can you do it again with Princess and me later?"

Obi-Wan was caught by the boys questioning blue gaze, and he asked back, "Princess? You mean the Princess?"

Luke nodded, "The queen told me a stories about her. She is five and she likes visitors and she'd like to see me -"

"Luke," Obi-Wan said sharply, upset that the boy had found out about the girl. They reached the speeder then, and he set Luke down before him and steadied the wandering gaze. He took the shoulders in his hands.

"You are not permitted to see the Princess. It is not safe."

"Safe?" Luke said, his face confused, "Papa, is it dangerous?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. He didn't want to lie to the child, but he needed to let him know just how serious this was. "No, but we may be in danger. You do not need to fear, young one, but you must listen to me. You may not see the Princess."

Luke blinked; that faint trace of his bruise still bluish on his fair face. Though his eyes seemed to understand, the Jedi saw a flicker of defiance that was all too familiar.

"But I want to. Papa, I need to see Princess -"

"Luke, I have already made up my mind. It is not to be discussed -"

"No!" Luke pushed from his grasp, a bit of untrained Force behind it. Obi-Wan could have easily blocked it, but allowed the shove to knock him back to sense the cloudy intent in the Force. His temper sparked. This reaction was unacceptable.

"Luke," Obi-Wan snapped. He could not say more, holding back stern reprimand.

The boy waited with dark eyes, as if tempting him to go on. The darkness. That was what Obi-Wan recognized. A darknesssprouting even sooner than the boy's fathers had. He had to stop the darkness.

"Why'd you take me to here? I want Aunt Beru . . . I wanna go _home_!"

Luke screamed the last word, his little hands tight fists, and when Obi-Wan reached to him he backed away defensively. The Jedi set his jaw firmly, "That is enough of this, young one. You will behave now and go with the nursemaid. It is time for me to go."

Luke's eyes widened, bright with emotion. As upset as he was at Obi-Wan, his dependency cried out for him.

"No."

"I must go."

"No, it's danger, you have to stay with me!"

"Luke -"

"You aren't my Papa," Luke whispered, "You're not, I has a real one."

"Not now, young one," Obi-Wan silenced, but Luke shook his head. He scowled an all too familiar scowl.

"You lied. You aren't my Papa and you _lied!_"

"I only want to protect you, Luke -"

"My Papa is not mean, not like you! My Papa wouldn't leave me here! My Papa loves me!"

"Your father loves _no one_!"

The boy flinched at the interjection. Obi-Wan breathed quickly, pursing his lips with regret of what he said. He had never raised his voice at him like that.

Luke blinked, blue eyes gathering tears, not of sadness though but of a sharp anger. A tear crept down his bruised cheek slowly. "I hate you."

A painful numbness pierced Obi-Wan's heart, emitted in a soundless gasp. He kept the boys eyes, though in his own he saw memories that chocked. _I hate you! _He squeezed his eyes shut, stomach wrenching at the horrid memory. No, not again. Why was this happening to him again?

At the commotion the nursemaid crept over stood just behind the boy. Obi-Wan knew he should not leave the child, with this between them. But he could not seem to bear facing the darkness. Not yet. He nodded once, and Luke turned and saw the girl just as she picked him up. He struggled in her arms and cried harder.

"Papa!" he screamed, reaching for the man futilely. "Papa _no!_"

Obi-Wan only watched as Luke was carried away, listening until the wails were faint and then covered by the storm, before entering the cruiser.

* * *

Princess Leia stroked her necklace thoughtfully, tucking it under the lace collar of her baby blue frock again. She listened to the patter of raindrops against her window and sighed, confused and frustrated at the same time. She did not like being locked up in her room. She did not like disobeying her parents. She did not like knowing secrets she couldn't tell. She didn't like all those things. In fact, she hated them.

"Princess, would you like to play Senate?" Winter asked gently from her side, putting a hand on Leia's.

They sat together on a soft comforter she had laid on the floor, surrounded by her stuffed animals and pillows, with a flashlight. The power had gone out and it was still very dark. Winter had been frightened, and so had Leia. She had felt very, very scared and she wasn't sure why. She usually liked thunder.

Rena, who had been attending to them, had left to see what the problem was and had not yet returned. She had already found Leia's lock-pick and had promptly locked both her closet and her bedroom door before she left.

Leia huffed to herself at the thought. She was glad the nursemaid was gone, but wished her mommy and daddy hadn't left. She missed them, for she hadn't seen them all day. She wished she could see them and the little boy and his father. But then, she just had to wait.

"Princess?" Winter repeated, looking anxious still. Her eyes were wide, and Leia knew her friend was scared of the dark.

Leia smiled to Winter in the dim light and shrugged, "I don't know, Winter. I don't mean to be mean. I don't feel like it."

"Then what do we do?"

"I'll braid your hair for you," Leia suggested, and Winter nodded and scooted closer to her. She combed her small fingers through gently, whispering in her friends ear, "You don't have to be scared, Winter."

"I'm not scared," Winter protested, though she hugged Oori tightly still. Leia had let her borrow the toy. "Why can't we find more light?"

"We are not allowed to roam," Leia said bitterly, weaving silvery strands of hair together, "Or else I may not be able to see Luke."

"Who?"

"A little boy who's a guest. Named Luke. I am not allowed to see him."

Winter wrinkled her brow. "Why?"

Leia shook her head exasperated, flopping dramatically backward onto her stuffed animals, "That's what I has to find out! Sir Erasmus says that he knows them. They're from Tatooine."

"Sir Erasmus told you?"

"Yes. He told me lots this morning. About Luke and about my necklace. . ." Leia grew quiet, finishing her friends braid. She had not trusted the man, but what he had said seemed awfully true. "But I still can't see him."

"You're mother says you are not allowed?"

"Yes." Leia pouted to herself, "She doesn't like me. She's mad for me sneaking into fathers study."

Winter crawled over and lay beside Leia, stroking her dark hair. Her friend always did it to make her feel better. "Maybe she's trying to help."

"How?" Leia asked, "I'm mad, Winter. And I'm going to find Luke. I'm going to, and you can help me -"

"No!" Winter scrambled to her feet, shaking her head furiously.

Leia stood too, a mischievous look in her eyes. "You must. Or else I'll . . . tickle you!"

Winter shrieked seconds before Leia chased her, both of them giggling as they raced about the bedroom, hopping over furniture. Leia was fast and nearly caught her friend, but continued to chase because it made her feel better.

As they ran over the bed and past the doorway for a third time, Leia halted abruptly at a shadow that flashed from outside the had run about and bumped into her from behind, but Leia wasn't bothered as she moved to peek through the keyhole.

"M'lady?" Winter asked, confused at Leia's peculiar action, "What is it?"

"I saw something!" Leia had only seen it from the slit under the door, but then as she strained to see she spotted a nursemaid turning down the corner of the hallway.

Frantic, Leia pounded and kicked at the door and shouted as loud as she could. Winter joined her, and together they made quite a noise. The Princess hushed after a moment, and they listened carefully . . . but it was silent.

Leia was tempted to stomp her foot, but she took a breath. She knew what she had to do, though she was not allowed. Her feelings told her that it would be alright. If she wanted to see Luke, she would have to do it herself. She grabbed her necklace in one hand and outstretched the other toward the door, taking another deep breath.

"Princess?"

Winter watched the Princess close her eyes, and that same frustrating silence lengthened as the little girl concentrated. The trick she knew seemed simple then, and Leia bit her lip as she touched the lock carefully. After a moment, both children gasped at a sudden sharp click. Leia's eyes flew open, and tentatively she grabbed the doorknob and turned.

It opened.

Instantly Leia squealed in delight, grinning to Winter brightly. "I did it!"

Winter smiled too, though her eyes were full of wonder, "How?"

Leia shrugged, not saying anymore about it. She took Winter's hand ran out into the halls, giggling in delight as they raced amongst the shadows

* * *

Luke hugged himself, safe in the nest of covers surrounding him on the bed in the bedroom. The fire had gone out, and the nursemaid that had brought him had left, only giving him some cold bitter tea to drink. Luke buried his face in the brown garment that smelled of Ben and dirt and sand, of his home. It comforted him, but made him feel sad too.

He was upset with Ben for keeping him in the palace, for Luke was scared all alone. He did not want Ben to get hurt like his aunt and uncle. He didn't want the Princess to get hurt either, but Ben said no, he could not see her. Luke only hoped they were alright.

The balcony door slammed open and shut and open again, and Luke cried out, startled. He hid beneath the covers and whispered to himself, "Ben will be here soon . . . he won't let anything happen."

It helped a very little. Luke felt his teeth chatter from the cold, and he held tightly to his necklace suddenly for he felt his feelings spark brightly. Curiously, he sat up and looked about, filled with a courage that was not his own. Someone was coming.

He watched the door intently, rubbing the smooth and rough parts of the pendant in his hand. He waited.

* * *

Leia somehow knew where to go. Through the darkened halls of bedrooms she sped on her tiny bare feet. She heard Winter calling for her, but she did not heed it. Her hair flew loose behind her and the drumbeat thunder outside seemed to match her steps. Lightning flashed, but Leia didn't stumble, for it made her run quicker. She clutched her necklace in her hand.

As she instinctively slowed, Leia found herself jogging, walking, and then tiptoeing to the last door down the long hall. It was the nicest guest bedroom, she knew, with a fireplace and a balcony. Often she sneaked in and played there. It was where the little boy was. She knew that too, somehow.

The door was opened just a little. Leia hesitated before it, feeling a shyness suddenly despite her fervor of seeing the boy. She still did not understand how or why she needed to. Leia touched the doorframe as she peeked inside, her heart fluttering quickly. She held her necklace tightly.

The room was lit by the flashes of lightning, and she could only see the foot of the bed and the balcony doors that swung about in strong gusts of wind. The fireplace smouldered and it was very cold. Leia heard a whisper of a noise, and she slowly opened the door some more.

It was only a shadow at first in the dark. Leia felt a shiver, from chill and from something else, seeing the small figure sitting on the bed. He was wrapped in the same cloak she had seen him on that night. A lightning flash showed his face for a split-moment, and the eyes that were the prettiest blue Leia could remember. They were a blue that she remembered. Somehow.

Leia blinked nervously, waiting for the boy to say something. He did not move, but shivered. At another flash, she saw the tears on his face. Quickly Leia pattered over and climbed onto the bed. She sat before him, knees folded beneath her, but she was also silent. She looked the boy up and down the best she could, seeing the light hair and bright eyes, the small mouth and hands that stroked her necklace -

Leia gasped. She looked to her own hands, and saw her necklace still there. She looked back to the boys . . . and yet, it was there too.

"Look," she whispered, and she gently touched his hands. Luke let the tension in them go, realizing just what she did. He allowed the girl to take the pendant slowly.

Leia set the two halves beside each other in her palm. They were the same. She took them both and fit them into the other like a puzzle. They fit perfectly.

Leia met Luke's eye for the first time.

In that moment, the remembrance of the blue eyes brightened. Leia felt her feelings, but realized they were not just _her_ feelings. They were theirs together. They had always been.

Leia was too confused to try to explain how or why or anything else, but she found herself smiling. She did not know why. Leia grabbed Luke's hands, the necklace between their grasp.

"I'm Leia," the little girl said softly.

The boy smiled back, "I'm Luke."

And they embraced one another.

* * *

For being one of Alderaan's top medical facilities, the med centre was fairly small and oddly quiet. It was nestled homely in the clearing of a deep wood, not hidden but out of the way. Drear hung in the rain clouds and did not give any optimism to Obi-Wan. By that point, optimism seemed hard to find.

The Master stood outside the landing pad beneath the ledge that kept him from the rain, though the windy spray still found him. He reached for the hood of his cloak, but his hands came up empty - _Oh. Right. _He was not a Jedi at the moment. A sigh escaped him and he folded his arms impatiently; things were taking far longer than necessary. Their margin of time to ensure the safety of Rabè Sifora was dwindling with every passing second. They needed to bring her back to the palace and be sure the twins and her were protected, and only then would Obi-Wan be at peace.

_It does not help that Bail still disagrees that we are in danger at all_, Obi-Wan thought, seeing Bail descended the landing platform with his wife, _or that Breha insists that the twins be introduced to each other for safety._

The two joined the Jedi in observing the Med Centre solemnly, and he gave them a look filled not with impatience but a gentle haste. Neither of them picked up on it.

"Looks quiet," the king mused, his wife agreeing from beneath the umbrella she held. "Very quiet."

"Too quiet," Obi-Wan finished, stepping out onto the rain-softened turf and beginning toward the Med Centre.

The incident had left the three of them quite shaken. No one talked, but whispered. Bail walked in calm step with his wife as he spoke softly to her, his arm hooked around hers, perhaps the steadiest amongst them by his serene gaze. Breha glanced about in a nervous curiosity, though seemed content in the closeness of her spouse. Obi-Wan strolled ahead of them.

The incident had not just been a strike of lightning and a power surge, but a surge in the Force. Obi-Wan knew that something was to occur, but not what. And that was what disturbed him the most.

"How long has Ms. Sifora lived on Alderaan?" Obi-Wan inquired as the three of them made their way into the lobby of the building.

The two exchanged a look, and Bail replied, "Ever since Padmè's death. We arranged that all of Senator Amidala's handmaiden be cared to, housed, financed and kept safe."

"We knew that they had known so much about Padmè," Breha added, and Obi-Wan nodded. "Too much."

"We made sure that they were not vulnerable to the Empire," Bail finished.

Obi-Wan nodded again plaintively. It was a pleasant gesture, but possibly not the wisest. Singling them out, placing them in vulnerable private communities often made things less "hidden" and more like targets. And with the information they knew, it wasn't good on their behalf.

"Let's just hope we are Rabè's first visitors," Obi-Wan said lightly, approaching the reception desk in the small lobby. The place was yet again quiet and the desk was unattended. He approached it and softly rang the bell that sat there for visitors.

"They must not be busy today," Breha figured, flipping uninterestedly through a wall of pamphlets.

"Or any day . . ." Obi-Wan remarked, "Surely it isn't always this oddly quiet."

Breha laughed, "You are just too used to the bustle of Tatooine, Master Jedi."

Obi-Wan chuckled, "It seems I am."

"But you are right, Master. It is odd. There are quite a few ships docked here," Bail peeked through the transparent doors outside, as if to be sure he was right.

He was. Obi-Wan set his jaw and listened for a moment, very carefully. He heard no noises beside the ones they made, no droids, no patients -

A veil of the Force was lifted suddenly, a wash of urgent sensation, and with a sigh Obi-Wan knew.

"Something is not right."

The Jedi turned away from the desk and headed for a long hall of the wards to his left swiftly, not considering a second guess. Footsteps followed him, and urgent confused voices. "Master!"

"Something's very wrong - " Obi-Wan said to Bail as the king caught up to his jog, though he only gave him a short look, searching the rooms as he ran. He spotted a wooden door adjacent and jutting out into the hallway off its hinges, and he hesitated none as he raced inside.

It took a moment for Obi-Wan to process the scene, heart racing with dread. The room was in shambles, the cot overturned, a table smashed, walls scorched with blaster bullets, an IV drip braced in the shattered the window. Fragments of transparasteel blanketed the rain soaked floor, the water swirled sickeningly with the scarlet of blood, leading to a body. Rabè Sifora's body.

Obi-Wan rushed to her, lifting the head that was drowning in the water; his hands felt for a pulse on her neck, trying to support her lolling head at the same time. It was faint and the skin greyish and cold, and she was not breathing. The Jedi looked to Bail, frozen with shock in the doorway.

"Someone get a medic!"

"Breha!" the king called, racing off to find his wife and a med. Obi-Wan examined the handmaiden, seeing blast wounds in various places on her midriff, before pumping her chest and beginning resuscitation.

"Breha is searching," Bail shouted as he returned, kneeling down beside the two with a roll of gauze and steristrips, "Is she . . ."

"Not yet," Obi-Wan said through clenched teeth, directing Bail to wrap the gauze around the woman's body.

"Who did this to her?"

"Whoever is behind this -" He spoke between resuscitation, "- were you and Breha called here today?"

"Yes, but we never - "

"Who scheduled this meeting?" Obi-Wan cut off, the woman still not responding. _Come on . . ._

Bail shook his head, ripping the gauze with his teeth and tying it off tightly to begin again. "I . . . I don't know!"

Footsteps silenced them, but Breha stepped in urgently, eyes wide with concern, "There is no Medic. It's like the Centre is completely abandoned!"

Obi-Wan cursed, "This is a trap - "

Rabè coughed weakly, gasping raggedly as she finally stirred in Obi-Wan's arms, and he turned to cradle her to ensure her eyes met his. Her dark gaze was clouded with pain, but he recognized her from those years ago on that fateful mission on Naboo.

The woman winced in pain and squinted tiredly, almost slipping unconscious again. Obi-Wan shook her gently, "Ms. Sifora, you must stay with us. I'm Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi -"

Rabè nodded weakly, the brown eyes clearing in recognition. She seemed scared, trembling profusely. Obi-Wan kept his voice calm.

"What happened here? Who did this to you?"

Rabè moved her lips, but breathed only. The pain, it was too much for her to speak. Her eyes were glossy with tears, but Obi-Wan shook his head encouragingly.

"Do not worry, Ms. Sifora. We will bring you to safety." His eyes looked to Bail quickly, "Go, bring the ship around. We will meet you at the entrance.

The king complied and raced ahead, and in moments, with Rabè in his arms, Obi-Wan and Breha were rushing to the exit and into the awaiting cruiser, taking off before the hatch had even closed.

Obi-Wan wobbled a little as they lifted off, and the queen did not hesitate as to direct him toward a bench to rest the woman on, "I'll find the med kit."

The Jedi set the handmaiden down gently, feeling the ship shudder as it soared quickly into the air. Obi-Wan, seeing that Rabè had slipped unconscious again, roused her awake with the Force. This time though when the eyes blinked to meet his they were weaker and the skin paler. He was losing her.

"Rabè," Obi-Wan called desperately; she stared up at him, very still, and when her chafed lips moved a whisper escaped them. He leaned nearer in order to hear.

"I'm . . . sorry, Master . . . forgive me, I . . . am sorry -"

"Sorry?" Obi-Wan repeated incredulously, "Why should you be sorry?"

"It is not me . . . they did not want me . . ."

"They? Who did not want you?"

Rabè's breath was heavy and faint, and Obi-Wan fought back his urgency. In his peripheral he saw Breha approach with the med kit, but with a quick look he told her to hold back. They would not need it. All they truly needed was who made this mess. Though the woman was dying before his eyes, he needed to save the rest of them.

"Rabè, what do you mean? What did they want if not you?"

Rabè was chocked, coughing blood then, but managed ever so faintly, "It is the necklace - "

The ship bucked horribly to the right, nearly sending them all tumbling into the tilted wall. Breha clutched the side for balance, shouting to her husband in distress, "Bail! What happened?"

The reply was muffled by the revving engine, "It seems like another incendiary bomb!"

Obi-Wan gasped, not just from the news but a sudden, gentle withdrawal in the Force. He turned to see Rabè's chin resting on her chest, very still and very silent.

"Rabè . . ." he called softly, but already knew. Obi-Wan closed her eyelids.

The Queen caught his eyes with her frightened ones, and he wished to console her just as the ship lurched again, harder than before. The look vanished as they both rushed to the cockpit to see the commotion.

Obi-Wan stood behind the pilot seat, squinting into the still stormy sky crowded with traffic. Alarms blared both from danger and nervously, pilots anxiously criss-crossing lanes, and in the near distance was a mushroom cloud of smoke was seen over treetops.

"So much for our outing," Obi-Wan said dryly, and Bail gritted his teeth.

"Civilians are fleeing the blast area . . . the palace is probably in an uproar right now."

"Probably." Obi-Wan said sarcastically, eyes quick to determine the bomb site. Breha glanced into the direction of smoke as well, "I don't know what was hit - "

"The Medical Centre."

The king and queen looked to one another, both speaking protest all at once, "It could not have -

"We should not jump to conclusions, Master -"

"Someone set you up; they planned on killing you and Rabè Sifora all at once, with that bomb. They have been monitoring us, and when they saw we were ahead of schedule they had to ensure Rabè was dead."

The queen shook her head, covering her mouth with one hand as she watched the cloud of dark smoke.

"But what about . . . " Bail stuttered, steering the ship clear of the commotion, weaving through the traffic though a few ships hung close to them, ". . . the medical staff? The doctors, where were they?"

"Dead, most likely." Obi-Wan said bluntly, "They needed to erase any information about being there. And reasonably why."

The royals looked back at him expectantly. Obi-Wan stroked his beard, sighing. He couldn't tell them. Inside him, his stomach was a cold knot, the dark side hovering around them so closely he felt lightheaded. He could not shake the awful feeling, one he knew was far too true to deny.

They were looking for the necklace.

This was his fault.

"Bail!"

In his distraction, Obi-Wan did not notice the ships that stalked them, and he sensed the danger seconds before blast fire erupted around them. The king instantly dipped the yoke down and then up, accelerating out of the lanes and into free airspace. Five dark ships hung close to them, quick and relentless and not eager to ceasefire.

"Imperials." Bail slithered.

"Get us out of here!" Obi-Wan shouted, and Bail maneuvered evasively, diving and weaving, but their enemies followed. Blaster fire peppered dangerously around them, and the queen clutched the sides of her seat as she watched her husband fight with the controls.

"Excuse my intrusion your Majesty, but I'd be far more comfortable if you'd take us higher -"

"If you haven't noticed Master we are surrounded on all sides!"

"Bail, be careful!" Breha cried, and Obi-Wan echoed.

"Yes Bail - hard right, take the turn sharp!"

". . . Force, I can't _shake_ them -"

The cruiser shuddered deeply as it was struck, veering to the right in an instant, uncontrollable corkscrew. They were hit again, on the bow, and the windshield shattered at the blast; Obi-Wan tried to brace but the shrapnel blinded and disorientated and all three of them were rocketed out of their seats. He felt gravity slam them up to the ceiling as they began a deadly nosedive, and the Jedi focused through the haze of speed and smoke and managed to Force himself to the controls.

Obi-Wan used all his might to pull up sharply, still dizzied, and steady them out; his head pounded, but in his haze he turned to see both royals slumped unconscious on the floor.

Obi-Wan had nearly steadied himself just when a transmission flickered at the dashboard, showing a bluish figure who looked to be an Imperial officer.

"Well done, pilot," A tenor voice crackled through, "You've successfully accomplished your own capture. I'm sure I need not thank you for leaving such a wonderful trail for us to follow."

Obi-Wan tasted blood in his mouth, recognizing the man. _From Tatooine,_ he thought, _that imperial that attacked Luke . . ._

The man did not recognize him in turn but inclined his head curiously, "I've sent an evac crew to obtain you; in the meantime, sir, I suggest you relax. It will make this easier for all of us -"

"You're working with Vader . . . " Obi-Wan felt his breath growing short with loss of oxygen, ". . you're kidnapping innocent rulers . . . on their own planet!"

"Enough petty talk pilot. It is not the royals we are looking for."

A sly smirk found the pursed lips of the Admiral, and the Jedi fought back a curse, "You will not find them - you cannot -"

"On the contrary, sir, we already have."

Obi-Wan did not have enough time to react as his ship sputtered into the grip of an unseen tractor beam, jolting his head into the dashboard and his mind into darkness.

* * *

"Are you a Sandperson?"

"Hm?"

"Sandperson. Sandpeople are from Tatooine."

"No. I'm a boy. A humanoid. I can speak some Huttese though. My Aunt taught me."

"I has to learn five different languages."

Luke smiled, "You're pretty."

Leia looked to the little boy holding her hand and smiled back, "Come, this way!"

They skipped down a flight of stairs together in the darkness. Luke giggled as their feet slipped on the marbly floors. Leia was excited to show him around the palace, but knew they should wait until the lights were restored. Unlike before, she felt safe and happy, not mad, not grumpy. She forgot about everything else now that she was near Luke. He made her feel happy.

They skipped slower as they came around a corner upon an especially dim hallway. "It's dark." Luke said, but Leia held his hand tighter, "Don't worry, it's not scary."

"I'm not scared, not anymore."

"Me neither now. You has to make sure you don't loose your necklace."

Luke shook his head, "I won't."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, and with a remembering gasp she paused and reached into her slipper, pulling out the special paper again. Luke followed and watched curiously by her side as she smoothed out the wrinkles. The boy turned his head inquisitively.

"What's that?" he asked.

Leia smiled a little, pointing to the paper that Luke realized was a photo. Her finger rested on the face of a pretty young woman. "This lady gave me my necklace. . ."

"She looks like you," Luke said, looking at the pretty woman, "My mother gave me my necklace."

Leia looked to him surprised, "Your mother?"

"My aunt told me she was sick and died when I was born."

Luke and Leia met eyes. Though the thought that suddenly overcame them seemed awfully silly, it also seemed awfully . . . real.

"Our necklace is the same. It came from the same person." Leia was using her best Senator skills, like her daddy. She looked to Luke as she spoke, "If your mommy gave you yours, and this lady gave me mine -"

At a sudden shriek the two jumped, seeing a shadow emerge suddenly ahead of them. Leia squinted curiously, her heart slowing.

"Winter?" She called, and the little form neared them, revealing pale hair and big eyes. "Winter! You scared us!"

Winter trembled, looking at the little boy just as confusingly as Luke looked at her.

"This is Luke." Leia said, and Luke smiled though he still held tightly to Leia. Winter did the same, though by her wide eyes the Princess knew something was wrong.

"Winter?" Leia inquired, taking her friends hand, and the girl burst into tears, gasping as she cried.

"Princess, they are gone . . . everyone i-in the palace, I can't find anyone and the doors -"

"Don't worry, we're safe -"

"No no! I hear voices," Winter shook her head, "And the guards are sleeping. They're sleeping."

Leia saw the fear in her friends eyes. She knew suddenly they weren't safe, and at Luke's gasp he also knew. Winter was right, noises and voices were heard from downstairs, stomping and people sounds, and Leia scowled. "Someone is looking for us . . ."

"For a necklace, m'lady." Winter stammered, "N-necklace."

"But why?" Luke cried. He was confused. He wished Ben were near to help them, but no. They were only little ones. "What do we do?"

Leia steadied the frightened eyes before her, deciding quickly and firmly. "I know."

* * *

The closet was small and hot but they only had to hide for a little while more. Whoever was looking for them was close. Luke sat beside Leia on an overturned bucket, his hand holding hers as it had been. It was dark but his blue eyes held hers tightly.

He whispered, "She'll do it?"

"Don't worry." Leia tried to smile.

The plan was simple, rushed and unorganized, but it would work. Leia had played enough Chase and Find games to know good tactics, and Luke had even contributed with his own tips. It had to work.

At the sound of the footsteps and ruckus of whoever was looking for them, Leia hopped to her feet, looking out through the keyhole. Dimly she saw the figures down the hall, holding flashlights. Just as planned. She looked back at Luke nodded, and the boy hesitated only a second before jumping loudly onto the floor and making as much noise as he could.

Leia watched carefully as the figures began to run toward the closet, and she ran back to Luke's side quickly as he stopped, saying just as fast, "Don't let them take it, make sure they don't find the necklace - "

A crash caused Leia to scream before she finished her sentence, Luke clinging to her tightly as the door fell in on itself and thumped upon the floor. Bright flashlights shone in their eyes, held by men in white armour.

_Stormtroopers_. Leia thought, counting more than ten of them welding blasters. What surprised her most was when Sir Erasmus emerged from between them, smiling a thin smile. "Well well, hiding away are we? And you have a friend!"

Luke hiccuped tears, but Leia fought hers away. Her voice was bright with anger as she shouted, "What do you want? My daddy will get you in trouble!"

"Princess . . . do you really think I give a flying kriff on your wimpy excuse of a father?" Erasmus chuckled, "I don't need him. In fact I don't even need you."

The man snapped his fingers and pair of troopers dragged them out of the closet, pressing their cold metal blasters harshly upon their heads. It hurt, bringing spots to Leia's eyes, but she refused to stay calm.

"Lemme go!" She kicked her legs furiously, "Now! Now!"

Sir Erasmus grabbed her cheeks in his fingers and spat at her in foul breath, "Where . . . is the necklace?"

Leia panted, gripping the cord of it in her fist. She didn't flinch, "Not here."

Erasmus scowled, "Alright then, I can play too. I order to shoot if you do not say."

Luke was wrenched out of the troopers arms and into Erasmus', who gripped his sandy blonde hair until the boy screamed. Leia felt tears well in her eyes. "No!"

"Where is the necklace?"

Luke whimpered in pain, but with a look from Leia he took a hint. He spoke up.

"I don't know because I don't have it! I'm not a girl! I don't wear necklaces!"

Erasmus shook the boy harshly, "Don't think that I won't shoot you on account of your insolence, you little Jawa!"

Leia, in the mans distraction, tucked the necklace away in her slipper. It took no more than seconds, and she stood upright just in time to see the mans face a brimming, furious pink.

"Take the both of them away and give them enough treatment until they tell!"

Erasmus threw Luke to the floor, the boy knocking his head on the marbled floors and shrieking in pain. Leia reached to help him, but the trooper yanked her back. Time for part two.

Leia took a breath and screamed as loud as she could, "Princess! _Princess_!"

"Hey!"

All heads turned to see down the hallway at the small voice that cried. In the darkness, a form of a girl stood with hands planted on her hips. "Would you like this?"

She dangled a necklace before herself.

Erasmus looked to the troopers in impatient haste, "Get her! _That_ is the Princess - _this_ is a nursery girl! Go!"

Leia watched as the boots clomped after the little person who ran off as quick as the wind. Luke's screams pierced her heart like the thunder outside, but Leia knew she couldn't save him then. They had to do the plan.

Luke writhed as Erasmus pulled him by his hair again, screaming in pain and fear, "Leia! Ben! _Leia . . . _!"

But Leia didn't move. She found her necklace again and squeezed it, trying to _tell_ Luke things were alright._ I'll come find you. I'll save you. _Even so, tears fell from her eyes.

This necklace had brought them together. Yet again, it was tearing them apart.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please follow + review! An update will come soon! :D **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello my readership! Alright, be forwarned - THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER! I am just informing you all of some stuff, tis all. **

**1) I love writing this story so so much! **

**2) I love that you guys love it too! **

**3) I've been very very very busy lately with things I will not bore you with. **

**4) I know you know what I'm going to say next . . . **

**5) The next chapter may be in a little while. **

**Now don't get me wrong, I'm not on hiatus or anything, I've just got so so much to do! I may update chapters in little parts, I may wait and do a whole one, not sure yet. But I wanted to tell you so you weren't wondering what was up. Thank you my readers, new chapter shall come soon! :D ~ Ellisaed **


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